Behind His Blue Eyes
by Lucinders
Summary: Owen Hunt is a successful author, who has been blinded in a car accident. His publishing house wants him to finish his next book, so they send an assistant to help him. Hunt has become bitter and more of a loner, since his accident. Cristina Yang is the assistant sent to help him at his seaside home in Maine. She is young and wants to be a writer, too. This is AU, of course.
1. Chapter 1 An Assistant

Publishing manager Phyllis Dolan was exasperated with her client, Owen Hunt. They were in his living room in his seaside house on the Maine coastline. It was a beautiful, large house with lovely views of the coast and the ocean.

"Owen, I know you have been through a lot these last few months but we need to get a draft of the book, as soon as possible. The first half that you wrote before the accident is great but we need the second half as soon as possible, if we are going to publish it to meet the Christmas season. People are looking forward to the next Owen Hunt book to give as a gift to their friends and family," she said. "You have to get working on this."

"How do you expect me to do this, Phyllis?" he yelled at her. "I am blind. The accident left me blind. I can't work." He had been in a terrible accident, six months ago. He had been driving on one of those coastal roads, when he was blindsided by a drunk driver, which sent him over a cliff. His injuries were severe but he had recovered from most of his injuries, except for one thing. He had lost his eyesight when the glass from the windshield shattered and had gone into his eyes. If one looked at him, he looked perfectly normal with a few cuts around his eyes. He was a handsome man, with strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes. But those blue eyes were no longer brimming with expression, anymore.

Before the accident, he was a relatively happy man, though a bit of a loner. That was mainly because his parents were dead and he had been an only child. He had a good life – he was a successful writer which had made him very comfortable. Forget comfortable, he was quite rich. He had bought himself this house in Maine, where the solitude allowed him to intensely focus on putting out popular and profitable books on a regular basis. He had been in several well-publicized relationships but none of them really worked out. After the accident, he seemed bitter about everything.

"I am aware of that but you took the advance on the book and the publishing house needs to get your book into stores. You have to stop feeling sorry for yourself, Hunt," she said.

"In any case, we are not totally insensitive to your situation. You need to finish your book and Meteor Publishing is willing to help you. We are going to bring an assistant for you, until you can finish the book," Phyllis said.

"What!" Owen said. "An assistant! I have never worked with anyone before."

"Well, this assistant will type for you, read it back, help you edit and we are going to make that deadline," she said. "We have just the person for you. She has been working in our office for about a year, now. She is 24 years old, a very bright girl. She will stay with you, until this book is done. We have trained her really well to be an editor. She has aspirations of becoming a writer herself." Owen groaned. He hated wanna-be writers. They were always trying to thrust some manuscript at him to pass on to his publishing house.

"I am going to ignore that groaning," Phyllis said, firmly. "She has a Bachelor's in English and a Master's degree in Creative Writing. So she is well qualified to help you, Owen. Remember we do have deadlines."

"What if I give you back the advance?" he said. "That way, I won't have to meet a deadline and you won't have to send this assistant to make my life miserable."

"We don't want the advance back, Owen. We want a book from you," Phyllis said. "You are one of our shining stars. We want you back in top form. So what are you going to do? Just give up on writing because of your accident and rob the world of your talent. We are not going to let that happen."

"Stop trying to sound altruistic, Phyllis. You know and I know that you want a book from me to help your company's bottom line," he said.

"I won't deny that, Owen but we have been friends for a number of years and I hate to see you in this blue funk all of the time. You're just spiraling lower and lower. I know writing will help you. It is the one thing you love to do. Start writing, again, Owen. I beg of you," Phyllis pleaded.

Owen sighed. He was quiet for a moment. "Okay, send the girl. What's her name?"

"Cristina Yang," Phyllis said. "She will be arriving this weekend. I have already informed Joyce about her impending arrival. She said she would prepare a bedroom for her."

"Yang? Asian girl?" he asked.

"Yes, she is," Phyllis said. "Now, remember one thing. Cristina is not your employee. She is an employee of Meteor, so please be civil towards her. I don't want to hear that you're being mean, mister. I don't want the girl running back to New York, telling me horror stories about Owen Hunt."

"Oh, you can trust me, Phyllis. I will be very nice," Owen said. Phyllis scoffed, "Not the way you've been acting these few months." Owen threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.

"Don't get exasperated with me, Owen Hunt," she said. "Anyway, I will be on my way. While where you live is a beautiful place, it is really a hard trek from Manhattan to come visit you. Goodbye. I have a plane to catch." She went over to him and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. "Be good."

"Yeah," he said. "See ya. Oh dear, I just remember I can't see you. Ha." Phyllis shook her head, as she walked away. He listened to the clicking of her high heels, as she walked away. Then, he heard the front door open and close and the sound of a car driving away. He opened a window and listened to the seagulls.

He heard the soft footsteps of his housekeeper enter the room. "Yes, Joyce," he said.

"Would you be having lunch in here or are you coming to the kitchen?" she asked.

"Lunch in here, please, Joyce," he answered. "Also, Mrs. Dolan told me that she spoke to you about our guest coming over the weekend."

"Yes, Mr. Hunt. I think I am going to prepare the green room with the balcony for her," Joyce said. She might want to look out at the beach."

"I am sure she will, Joyce," he said. "Thank you." Joyce left the room to bring him his lunch, as he sat at a table near the window. He could no longer see the beautiful coastline but he loved the feel of the breeze against his face, as well as listen to the waves crash against the shore. He bought this house for its magnificent views and now, here he was, unable to see it, anymore.

* * *

It was Saturday. Miss Yang was supposed to arrive that every evening. He wondered if he had to make arrangements to have her picked up but he received a call from Phyllis that Cristina would take a taxi to his house, so he wouldn't have that trouble. He was anxiously awaiting her arrival. The truth was that he didn't have many visitors to his house. Other than Phyllis, there had been his ex-girlfriend, Tamsin. But after the accident, he broke up with her and drove her away, so she no longer visited. He had been bitter and felt that she was staying with him out of a sense of obligation. He knew that Tamsin was a social butterfly and loved the spotlight from dating a very successful and well-known author. He didn't think that she would have adjusted well to his blindness. The last he heard was that Tamsin was dating a pro basketball player. He didn't have any remorse over their broken relationship. He just wished her well.

He heard the sound of the car coming up his graveled driveway. Miss Yang was definitely here. He heard her voice, as she thanked the driver for bringing her here. It was a lovely voice, he thought. Then, he heard the knock on the door. He knew Joyce would get it. He heard their conversation. "Good evening, my name is Cristina Yang," the young woman said. "Mrs. Dolan said you were expecting me."

"Of course, Miss Yang," Joyce said. "I am Joyce Dumais, the housekeeper. Mr. Hunt is in his study. Would you like to meet him now or go to your bedroom?"

"I think I will just drop off my luggage in the bedroom and then come back down to the study to see him," Cristina said. "Which one is it?"

"At the top of the stairs, it will be the second door to your right. Mr. Hunt's bedroom is at the very end. Do you need me to take you to the study, when you come back down?" Joyce asked.

"No, no," Cristina said. "If I am going to be here for a couple of months, I might as well try to find my way around the house. "

"Okay, good. Well, dinner will be ready in a bit, so you can go and have a nice chat with Mr. Hunt, until then," Joyce said.

"Thank you, Miss Dumais," Cristina said. "Oh, please call me Joyce," the housekeeper said. "Okay," Cristina replied. "You can call me Cristina."

Owen listened as he heard the young woman trudging up the stairs with the suitcase. She seemed to be having a bit of trouble, dragging it up the stairs. He could hear her say "phew" when she finally reached the top. It made him smile. After about 10 minutes, he could hear her feet coming down the stairs. There were a couple of doors opening and closing. It was clear she was checking the rooms to find the study. He decided to make it easy for her, as he opened the study door and left it ajar.

"Oh," he heard her say, before entering the room. She had finally found the right room.

"Good evening, Mr. Hunt," she said. "I am Cristina Yang." She came forward and put out her hand to shake. Then she remembered he was blind and he wouldn't know that she had her hand out. She put down her hand, feeling rather foolish.

"Good evening, Miss Yang," he said. "How are you? Did you find your accommodations suitable?"

"Yes, the bedroom was beautiful. Love the view from the balcony. In fact, the whole house is magnificent. The views are tremendous from every room," she said.

"Yes, that is one of the reasons that I bought this house," he said. "But, of course, I can no longer see them."

"Oh, I am sorry," she said, apologetically. "That was just me being insensitive."

"No," he said. "Don't be sorry. We rarely get visitors up here and it is always wonderful when someone appreciates all of the views."

"I do appreciate every one of them," she said. "I can't wait to take a walk on the beach in the morning. Maybe collect some shells."

"Well, the shells here are very pretty," he said. "I am sure you can find some lovely ones. There is also sea glass, too. What are you going to do with them?"

"Nothing too fancy," she said. "Maybe do some decorative picture frames, or maybe just put them in a clear glass bottle as a decoration."

"That sounds nice," he said. "I am sure you will enjoy it." As he listened to her voice, he wondered what she looked like. All he knew was that she was Asian.

"Do you mind if I ask what you look like?" he asked. "Oh, no, not at all," she said.

"So you're Asian, so you must have dark straight hair and dark eyes," he said, trying to picture her in his mind.

"Well, I do have dark hair and dark eyes. I am okay looking. My hair is not straight. It is curly and it drives me crazy sometimes. It's so hard to take care of that I sometimes feel I need to chop it all off," she said.

"Oh, that means your hair is long," he said. "Yup," she said. "Most times, it is in a ponytail or in a bun."

He wanted to ask to feel her face but he felt that would have been too forward, since they just met.

"Have we ever met before?" he asked. "I have been at the Meteor offices a lot. Maybe I know what you look like."

"I don't think so," she said. "My cubicle is in a corner. I have seen you, though, when you've come to the office."

"And you've never said hello," he said, with a laugh.

"No," she said. "What would you want with silly old me? I am a plebe at Meteor. Plus Mrs. Dolan would want to know why I was bothering you." He laughed when she mentioned Phyllis. Joyce came in the room and announced that dinner was ready.

"Cristina, your dinner is on the dining room table. Mr. Hunt, do you want me to bring your dinner for you?" Joyce asked.

"No, no," he said. "I will eat with Miss Yang at the table," he said. Joyce was surprised. Since the accident, he hardly ever came out of his study and usually took his meals in there. She was pleased that he was willing to go to the dining room.

"Very well, sir," she said, as she rushed to the dining room to put out another place setting.

"Would you like to take my arm?" Cristina asked. Owen had a cane and he could find his way to the dining room but it was nice of her to offer. "Yes," he said. She came to him and rested his hand on her arm. They walked out of the study and went to the dining room. She guided him to the chair at the top of the table, as she sat on the right side of him. Joyce had already laid out the food on the plates for them.

"Could you tell me where is what on the plate?" he asked. She examined his plate. "The potatoes are at 10, the meat is at 3, the vegetables are at 7,"she said.

"Thank you," he said. They had a very pleasant meal and even better conversation together. At the end of it all, Cristina said she was a little tired and wanted to make it an early night. He told her to have a good night.

As Joyce came in to take out the dishes on the table, Owen asked, "Joyce, can you tell me what Miss Yang looks like?"

"Oh, she is a very pretty girl," Joyce said. "She has glossy, black curls and her hair is long up to the middle of her back. She has really flawless skin, too. She is quite slender, on the petite side."

Owen laughed, "She told me she was okay looking."

"Ah," Joyce said. "She was just being modest. She is much more than okay looking, Mr. Hunt. Are you going to retire for the night?"

"Yes," he said. "I am going up to my bedroom." He took out his cane and found his way to the staircase. It was recommended that he give up his upstairs bedroom but he loved his spacious bedroom. He knew exactly how many steps there were on the stairs and he always held on tightly to the railing, whenever he went up or down the stairs. He passed Cristina's bedroom and he could hear the sound of the radio and the thumping of her feet. He could tell she was dancing. It was a wonderful, joyful sound.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your reviews and comments. I do appreciate that you leave your thoughts, especially since this is a brand new story.**


	2. Chapter 2 The Beach

Cristina awoke to the sun streaming in from the large windows. She got up and stretched. She only half-believed she was there in this beautiful house by the sea and not her tiny apartment in Brooklyn. She flung open the balcony doors and breathed in the sea air. In that instant, she decided to take a run on the beach. She changed into jogging gear and slipped out of the house. There was still an early morning chill in the air but she warmed up when she started running. It was a good run and she made the mental note that she would run every morning on the beach, while she was there. She made it back to the house, took a warm shower and headed downstairs for breakfast.

Mr. Hunt was already down in the kitchen, waiting for her. Joyce had been surprised to see him at the kitchen table. She usually brought up his breakfast to his room. She knew that he was making the effort because of the presence of the young lady. Joyce decided to do a breakfast with crepes, ham and eggs, along with coffee and orange juice and fruit on the side.

"Good morning," Cristina said. "I am sorry, were you waiting for me?"

"Yes," Owen said. "I was wondering where you were. I did knock on your door on my way down."

"I took a run on the beach," she responded. "It was exhilarating."

"I used to do that before the accident," Owen said, wistfully. "But I haven't been down to the beach, since I came home from the hospital, a couple of months ago. I am afraid if I go out there, I won't be able to find my way back to the house."

"Oh, that's too bad," she said. "Anytime, you wish to go out to the beach, I will take you. You live next to this beautiful beach and you should be able to enjoy it. I am sure that was one of the reasons you bought this house."

"Yes," he admitted. "I miss going out there. So you're willing to do that for me? Remember I am blind and I might be a little burdensome out there."

"Of course, I will," she declared. "Anytime."

"Even at night?" he asked, half-jokingly. "Sure," she said. "We just have to carry a flashlight and also depend on the moonlight but it could be fun. Maybe we can go out one evening and build a bonfire out on the beach."

"Ooh, a bonfire. I do like the sound of that," he said. It seemed that having young Miss Yang in the house was going to be quite a treat.

"Oh, by the way, I was wondering whether you wanted to start working on the book. I know I will be working odd hours because creativity isn't something that comes during set working hours. So, if you want to start today, that will be good with me," she said.

"Okay, that is good. Since I knew you were coming, I started tape-recording some of my ideas," he said, as he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a recorder. "They were just some ideas I had. I trust that you read the first part of the manuscript."

"Yes," she told him. "I read it and it was fantastic." He smiled at her enthusiastic praise. She continued, "I am so honored to be part of finishing the second half."

"May I ask, Miss Yang, did you volunteer to come to Maine to work with me? Or were you hand-picked by Phyllis?" he asked. "You can be honest if you didn't really want to come here."

"Oh, actually, Mrs. Dolan called me in and told me that she had a special assignment for me. She told me that I could turn it down, if I decide that it would be too much of a disruption on my life, since I was told that I would be moving to Maine, for a couple of months. I almost turned it down but when I heard that I would be working for you, I jumped at the chance. How often does someone like me get a chance to work with someone like you? Like almost never," she said. "So here I am."

"Thank you for telling me this," he said. "I wouldn't want to work with someone, who doesn't want to be here."

"Oh, I do want to be here. However, Mrs. Dolan warned me that you've become rather prickly in your disposition and you may not be easy to work with," she said. "But so far, I haven't seen any of that."

"Oh, Phyllis told you that, did she?" he said, shaking his head. "Hmmm. I think you should make up your own mind about me, Miss Yang."

"I will," she said. "So far, it has been good, Mr. Hunt. So you haven't answered my question, do you want to work today, even though it is a Sunday?"

"Yes," he said. "We can do so. I am just full of ideas, right now. So after breakfast?"

She nodded. Then, she remembered he wouldn't see her nodding. "Yes, that will be fine," she answered.

So after partaking in Joyce's hearty breakfast, they headed to the study to start work. He handed her the tape recorder and she played it to listen to his thoughts about the structure and flow of the second half of the book plus the conclusion he had planned. After they listened to the entire recording, she gasped, "That ending was brilliant. I am so proud to be part of the next adventure of super secret spy, Alex Newland. I have been reading your books all through college. You are one of my favorite authors ever."

"I am?" he said, pleased that she said that. "Of course you are," she replied. "That's one of the reasons why I took this assignment."

"So, let's get to work," he said. He started dictating while Cristina typed his words. She would stop and read it back for him, then they would make changes. She would offer suggestions that were sharp and incisive. He now understood why Phyllis had chosen the girl to assist him. "Yeah," he agreed. "That sounded better." The time flew so fast that they hadn't realized that hours had passed. It was about 1 p.m. that Joyce had come to the study and asked if they were not going to have lunch.

"Yes," Owen said. "We're coming, now. I am famished. It was such a good morning's work." Cristina offered him her arm and they walked together to the kitchen. After lunch, they returned to the study and continued to work. They were being so productive. Owen wondered why Phyllis had not suggested this, sooner. He really was starting to feel better about everything. Phyllis had been right. Once he had started writing and getting the creative juices flowing again, it was helping to brighten his whole outlook on his life.

* * *

Around 6 p.m., Joyce showed up and told them that dinner was ready. They were both exhausted from their long day but it was a happy kind of exhaustion that they had actually managed to accomplish so much. They sat at the dining table and were having their dinner, when Owen decided to ask Cristina about her own aspirations as a writer.

She felt shy to talk about it but he encouraged her to talk about it. "I think my writing is probably targeted to the Young Adults market. I have been writing this book for the past year, at night when I come home from Meteor in the evenings. I have other obligations, so sometimes it is hard to get the time to write."

"If you like, you could read some of your work to me," he said. "I will let you know what I think."

"Really?" she said. "But I am not sure. Suppose it is really bad."

"I seriously doubt that. Don't you have a Master's degree in Creative Writing? Where from?" he asked.

"NYU," she said. "That is a top-notch program," he said. "If you could graduate from there, I am sure your work is really good. So, don't be shy. We will set aside a time for me to listen to your work."

"Okay," she said. "We'll do that." As they finished their dinner and dessert, he asked, "I guess we're done for the day. Would you like to take me for a walk on the beach?"

"Sure," she said. "I would love to go for a walk. Help me work out all these calories I have been consuming all day." They changed their shoes and put on light sweaters, as they headed out the back door to the beach.

"Do you want to hold my arm or hold my hand?" she asked. "Your hand," he said. She placed her small hand into his much larger one as they continued on their way. She pointed out when there were undulations in the sand, so he could be aware. It had been a long time, since he was out there on the beach. He could smell the ocean air and the soft sea breeze hitting him on the face. In his mind's eye, he could still see the water and the waves lapping on the shore.

"Do you want to run in the water?" she asked. He nodded. He kicked off his shoes and rolled up his pants legs. She kicked off her shoes, too. Then, she led him to the water's edge and as they walked through the water.

"A little cold," he said. "But that's okay. I haven't felt the ocean under my feet in a long time." Their toes sunk into the damp sand as they walked. They were only about two or three people on the beach with them. A couple passed and the woman said, "Good evening. Lovely evening, isn't it?"

"Yes," Owen answered. "The sky looks fantastic." As they passed the couple, Cristina asked, "How did you know that about the sky? It really is fabulous. There are lots of pink and orange."

"That's because I know what the sky looks like at this time of the year," he said. "It was a good guess. They probably don't even know that I am blind."

"Probably not," she said. "You know there is a lot of driftwood on the beach. Maybe we can use that when we do our bonfire."

"That would be nice," he said. "Maybe we can roast marshmallows, too."

"Yes," she said. "Roasted marshmallows like we used to do at camp. Maybe we can even make s'mores. That would be a whole lot of fun. Gotta plan, though. We would need supplies."

"Oh, just ask Joyce. She will get whatever we need from the store," he said.

"I think we should head back," Cristina said. "It's getting darker and I need to find our shoes."

"Okay," he laughed. They walked back, found their shoes, dusted the sand off their feet and put their shoes back on before making the trek back up to the house.

As they stepped into the house, Joyce screamed, "No sandy shoes on my floors. Take those shoes off and leave them outside on the patio. I will get all of the sand off." Cristina and Owen took off their shoes and did what they were told, as they made their way barefoot to their bedrooms. Cristina went into her bedroom, stripped off her clothes and went in for a luxurious bath. She almost fell asleep but was startled by the ringing of her phone. She reluctantly got out of the warm water, dried off a bit and then, grabbed her phone. She looked at the screen; it was her mother.

"Hey, mom," she said. "How are things?"

"Things are not going well at the moment," Helen Yang said. "Can you hear him?" Cristina listened to the sound of her son screaming and crying in the background.

"Yes, what is the matter with Logan?" Cristina asked. Logan was staying with her mom in her childhood home in Westchester.

"He won't go to bed until he talks to you," Helen said. "Logan, I have your momma on the phone. Come." Cristina heard the patter of her son's feet.

Logan's small voice came on the phone, "Mommy." His crying had subsided, now that he was talking to his mommy.

"Yeah, baby it is me," Cristina told the three year old boy. "Are you giving grandma trouble?"

"No," Logan said. "When are you coming home, mommy? I miss you."

"I know, baby. But mommy has got to work, so you can have food and toys," she said. "You don't have a daddy, so mommy has to work to take care of you. So you can't give grandma any trouble."

"Sing yullaby," he said. "Okay," Cristina said. "I will sing Lullaby and then you will go to sleep." She started singing, "Lullaby and good night, with roses bedight….." She sang the whole song for him.

As she finished the song, it seemed to have calmed down Logan. Her mom came back on the phone. "Okay, that seemed to have work. So how are things going with Mr. Hunt?" Helen asked.

"Great, Mrs. Dolan made me think he was some ogre but he has been pretty amazing, so far and he is such a brilliant writer, mom," Cristina said. "Anyway, I guess you could put Logan to bed, now. I will talk to you guys, tomorrow."

"Bye, Cristina," Helen said. As she hung up the phone, Cristina lay back on her bed. She had taken this assignment not only to work with Mr. Hunt but because Mrs. Dolan was also going to make extra payments such as a relocation fee and another payment , which she coined as a hazard fee for having to deal with prickly Mr. Hunt. She laughed at that thought. He didn't seem to be that way. She already admired him but now, she was starting to really like him.

She thought about her son, Logan, with his curly golden brown hair and light brown eyes. He was the image of his father. She had him just after graduation. His dad was her college boyfriend, Marcus, who had died in a car accident, just before graduation. They were going to get married after graduation but he had died before that could happen. He never even saw his baby born. Since then, her mother was her rock. She had helped to take care of Logan, while she attended the master's program at NYU. Being away from Logan was extremely hard but she had to do it to be able to provide for him.

There was a knock on her door. She quickly grabbed her robe before she went to answer the door. It was Mr. Hunt. She realized she could have been naked and he would not have known. "Mr. Hunt," she said. "How can I help you?"

"I was wondering," he said. "If we could drop the formalities and stop it with the Mr. Hunt and Miss Yang. You call me Owen and I'll call you Cristina. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah, that is fine," she said. "Good night, Owen."

"Good night, Cristina," he said. She watched him as he returned to his room. What she didn't see was the huge smile on his face.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your comments and reviews. I really do appreciate when you take the time to do so.**


	3. Chapter 3 Bonfire night

It had been two weeks since Cristina had promised that they would have a bonfire on the beach. Owen held her to that promise and suggested that they also camp out on the beach, since he hadn't done that in a while. She agreed and he kept reminding her about it. She listened to the weather reports and made sure that the night they chose to camp on the beach would be a clear night. She announced to him that tonight was the night. He was very excited.

Joyce and Cristina had set up everything beforehand. Cristina had gathered the dry driftwood and put them together in a pile. Then, she and Joyce put up the tent and put in the sleeping bags. In reality, camping on the beach wasn't going to be hard because the house was right there and they could always run back and get anything that they needed. Joyce had bought them all of the supplies that they would need, including marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers. In addition to the big bonfire, they had also put together a smaller campfire next to the tent, so they could do the s'mores.

Joyce was worried about Mr. Hunt. He hadn't done this, since before he lost his sight. But she could see he was game for it and it helped that the presence of the young woman probably was making a better experience for him. He seemed so happy, she thought.

At around 9 p.m., Cristina and Owen went down to the beach to spend the night. She got the bonfire going and she told him that it really lit up the night sky.

"The moon is out tonight," she said, switching off the flashlight she had brought down with them. She got the smaller campfire going, so they could roast the marshmallows. She handed him one on a stick and guided his hand to the fire. "Keep your hand at that distance," she told him. "We don't want you getting burned."

"How do you know how to do all of this?" he asked.

"Years of being in Girl Scouts," she said. "I have all of the badges plus I always sold the most cookies in my troop. I was very competitive."

"Oh, I would have bought cookies from you," he said. She laughed. "Yes, you would have. I would have compelled you to take at least five boxes. I had the saddest little face, ever. It was so sad that it looked like if you didn't buy the cookies, I would burst into tears at any moment. But it was all an act."

"Aw, I would have liked to see that," he said, laughing at the thought.

"Your marshmallow is done," she said. "Be careful, it is still on fire." She blew out the fire and removed the blackened parts of it. "Let it cool for a bit, you don't want to burn your tongue," she said, as she watched him gingerly take a bite out of it.

"Haven't done that in ages," he said, as he ate the marshmallow. "Can we start the s'mores now?"

"Sure," she said, as she quickly got to work. "By the way, Joyce sent down two large thermoses of coffee. Do you want some?"

"Yes," he said. She poured out the coffee into a thermos cap and handed him to him. "Hot and sweet. It should warm you up." He took a grateful sip. "So tell me more about yourself," he said. "We've been so busy with work. We barely talk about ourselves."

"Oh, there is not much to tell," she said, shyly. "Maybe you can tell me more about yourself and your childhood."

"Okay, but if I talk about me, you have to talk about yourself," he said. "Deal?"

"Deal!" she agreed. "But my life is probably more boring than yours."

"I am an orphan," he said. "I had a pretty ordinary life until my parents died when I was 16 years old in a plane crash. I am an only child and so were my parents and there wasn't any family to take me, when they died, so I ended up in the state system for two years. I didn't mind it too much because it was there I started writing. I didn't want to be fostered because at 16, I was practically grown up. One thing, though, my parents had ensured that I could go to college and I went to Yale. At Yale, I honed my writing skills and by the time I graduated at 22, I already had my first novel done. I shopped it around to all of the big publishing houses. I got rejected until Meteor decided to give me a shot and the rest is history. That was the start of super secret spy Alex Newland and the entire series of books."

"Yay," Cristina said. "Is this why you made Alex an orphan? Because of your own experience?"

"Yeah, I didn't want him to have any ties to anybody – any emotional baggage that could tie him down," Owen said. "If he loved someone, then they could threaten that person to have leverage on him."

"Oh," Cristina said. "But that's not you, right? You're not Alex. Surely you must love someone."

"I mean I don't have any family to speak of, just like Alex. I have had girlfriends in the past and I am pretty sure I have cared for them. I certainly do have a fondness for Joyce. She is a peach. Also, Phyllis Dolan is a great friend, even though she can be a pain sometimes but she has always had my back at the publishing company. And you, even though we've only known each other two weeks, I sense in you a kindred spirit. We are friends, aren't we?" he asked.

"Yes, most certainly, Owen, we are definitely friends," she said. She reached out and squeezed his hand. He smiled. "So what about you? Don't think I've forgotten your end of the bargain," he said.

"My life is so boring," she said. "I grew up in Westchester in New York. Pretty normal childhood in a suburban town. My dad was a lawyer but he died of cancer, when I was about 18. He left us really well cared for, so we would never want. I went to school at Vassar and then to NYU. Then, I got the job at Meteor and here I am."

"So you're half an orphan," he said.

"Yeah, I am," she said. "But my mom is great. She has gone beyond the call of duty for me."

"So no boyfriend?" he asked. There was a reason he was asking this question. He wanted to know. Scratch that, he needed to know.

"Well, I had one serious relationship when I was in college. His name was Marcus. We were together for the four years of college and we were going to get married but he died just before graduation in a car accident," she said, a little wistfully.

"I am so sorry," he said. "I didn't want to bring up bad memories."

"Oh, no, they are not bad memories," she answered. "Most of my memories that I have of Marcus are really good ones. He was a great guy. I am just sorry that he died. He had so much potential. And I did love him."

"So since then, no one?" Owen asked. He was impatient to find out her current relationship status.

"No, I am just too busy these days," she said. "Lots of obligations keep me busy because I also have a s-." Her train of thought was interrupted because the chocolate started to run down her fingers. "Ooh, I have chocolate everywhere. This s'more is definitely ready. " She handed it to him. "Try this." He bit into the s'more and reveled in the sweetness of the chocolate and the marshmallow.

"It is good," he said. "I think you are an amazing girl scout."

"Thanks," she said. She bit in the s'more she had made for herself. "Ooh, that is good." Together, they sat in amiable silence before she spoke. "It is a beautiful night, Owen. The moon is big and bright and it looks like all of the stars are out. Nice when there is no smog blocking the stars like what happens in the city."

"I remember what they looked like. It was wonderful," he said. They were again silent for a bit before he asked. "Cristina, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," she said. "What's up?"

"I was wondering if you would allow me to touch your face so I can figure out what you look like," he said. "But only if it is okay with you."

"Yes, it is okay," she said. She came to him and placed his hands on her face. He touched her cheek and caressed the shape of her lips. "You have full lips," he said. He marveled at the smoothness of her skin. Joyce had told him that she had flawless skin.

"I do," she replied. As his fingers moved upwards, she closed her eyes, so he could feel her lids and her brows. "I think you must have very expressive eyebrows," he said. She laughed. Then, he reached her hair and ran his fingers through her thick, luxurious curls.

"Your hair feels great," he said. "You do have lots of curls."

"Yeah, I told you," she said. "I definitely wasn't lying about that." He again put his hands on her face, cupping the sides of it. "I think you're beautiful," he said. She was glad that he could not see her face because she was blushing so hard. She was certain her face was a bright red.

"Thank you," she said. He removed his hands from her face. There was an awkward silence after, before Cristina told him that they better turn in for the night. They got into the tent, as they each crawled into their sleeping bags. "Good night, Cristina," Owen said. "Good night, Owen," she replied. The sound of the waves soon lulled them to sleep.

* * *

Owen woke up, a little disoriented. The sound of the waves and the seagulls sounded so much closer than they normally would, when he heard them from his bedroom. Then, he remembered. They had spent the night on the beach. "Cristina," he called out. There was some movement outside of the tent, he knew. She stuck in her head. "Hey, you're up. Great. I will just take you back to the house, so you can freshen up and we can have breakfast. Joyce is already working on that. I have cleared up everything out here, so it is just your sleeping bag and the tent to be dismantled."

"Well, it seems you've been a busy bee," he said. He got himself out of the sleeping bag and she helped him up. "Take my hand," she said and they walked back to the house.

She led him into the kitchen, where Joyce was busy preparing breakfast. "Okay, so you're good here," she said. "I am just going back down to roll up your sleeping bag and to dismantle the tent."

"Yes," Owen said. The door shut behind her as Cristina left. Joyce came to him and handed him his cane, so he could find his way to his bedroom.

"So did you have a good time, Mr. Hunt?" Joyce asked, with a knowing smile on her face.

"Yes, it was a lovely night. Cristina just makes everything better," he said.

"She does?" Joyce replied. "Yes, she certainly does," Owen said, emphatically, as he left the kitchen to go to his room and freshen up. He really needed to brush his teeth and take a shower before he came back down for breakfast.

Joyce watched Cristina efficiently dismantling the tent on the beach. Her presence in the house had certainly lightened the atmosphere, especially lifting the spirits of its owner. He was not as morose and bitter as he used to be. It was certainly a good thing. Most definitely a very good thing.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate when you take the time to do so.**


	4. Chapter 4 Tamsin

Twenty-nine-year-old Tamsin Wallace got out of her car. As she stepped on the graveled driveway, she cursed. She should have remembered to have worn different shoes, she thought. It had been a long time, since she had come to her ex-boyfriend's house in Maine. Since they broke up a little after his accident, she had not been back. She really didn't like it much here in Maine. It was too quiet.

New York was where all of the action was, where the parties were. She loved dressing up and going to the parties and having her picture taken, so she could appear in the newspaper, the next day, on the society pages. When Owen got into an accident, she certainly felt sorry for him but she knew that her social life would be severely curtailed with him in this state. In a way, she had been grateful for him breaking up with her. After Owen, she dated one of the players from the New York Knicks. He was nice enough but so tall and it was awkward dancing with him. They didn't have much in common and she soon got bored with him. But it was great dating a basketball star, while it lasted. She began thinking about Owen. Not only was he handsome, he was also quite smart and could carry a great conversation. Maybe it had been too easy for her to let him go, as he did. She decided to take a trip to Maine to find out whether there were still any sparks left between the two of them. If so, maybe, she could persuade him to come back to New York. After all, he already owned an apartment out there in New York, which he hardly ever used. Surely, he must be tired of being cooped up here in this big old house in Maine, where nothing happened.

She rang the doorbell. She heard a voice from the inside say, "I'll get it, Joyce." It was a voice she had never heard before. Who was that? Did Owen get another domestic helper? The door was opened by a young woman, an Asian girl, with wild, curly hair. She appeared to be in her early 20's. "Hello," the girl said. "May I help you?"

"Yes," Tamsin said. "I am here to see Owen Hunt."

"Was he expecting you?" the girl asked. What was wrong with this girl, Tamsin thought. "No," Tamsin replied, a little stiffly. "I am Mr. Hunt's girlfriend and this is a surprise visit." She purposely left out the fact that she was an ex-girlfriend.

"Oh," the girl said. "Come on in."

"Thank you," Tamsin said. "Would you be a dear and hang this up for me? You can tell Joyce that I will be staying for lunch so she can put out an extra place setting? And can you get me a cup of coffee with cream and sugar? I will be in the study with Mr. Hunt. He's always there, isn't he?" Cristina nodded but as she was nodding, the tall, cool brunette threw her coat at her. Cristina was surprised that the woman was treating her like this, especially since the coat landed on her head. She was going to say something but the brunette had already walked away, heading to the study.

Cristina shook her head at the audacity of the woman. She hung up the coat and went to the kitchen, where Joyce was. "Joyce, we have a visitor. Tall brunette. She said she wanted coffee with cream and sugar and wants me to bring it to her in the study," she said.

"Oh, good grief, Tamsin is here!" Joyce exclaimed. "I thought I would never see the likes of her, ever again."

"She said that she is Mr. Hunt's girlfriend," Cristina said.

"Oh, no, child," Joyce said. "She WAS Mr. Hunt's girlfriend. They broke up months ago, actually, right after his accident. I never liked that woman. Always treated me like a second class citizen."

"Well, she certainly was treating me like one. Ordering me around and she tossed her coat on my head, telling me to put it away for her," Cristina said. Joyce shook her head. "The nerve of that woman! I better make Mr. Hunt some tea so he could deal with her." She started making the coffee for Tamsin and the tea for Owen.

"Oh, before I forget, she said she was staying for lunch, so you should put out another place setting," Cristina told her. Joyce threw her hands up in the air. She finished up the tea and coffee, placed them on a tray and was going to carry it to the study.

"Don't worry, Joyce, I will carry it," Cristina said, as she took the tray from the housekeeper.

Meanwhile, Tamsin and Owen were having a conversation, a painful one if anyone asked Owen. She had come in and announced her presence by kissing him smack on the lips. "So how have you been keeping in this dreary old house?" Tamsin said.

"The house is not dreary, Tamsin. There is light coming into every room," Owen said. "And the views are magnificent."

"Well, I don't mean dreary in terms of the views, I mean dreary in terms of the lack of action and stimulation around here," she said. "What do you do around here?"

"I like the peace and quiet because I am currently writing my latest book," Owen said.

"Oh, you're writing again. That's good," Tamsin said. That was really good news because it meant that Owen would have to go on a book tour, when it came out. Then, it would get all exciting, again.

Owen scoffed. He knew that Tamsin never read books; she was only interested in the tabloid magazines near the supermarket checkout. He wondered why he ever dated this girl. She was only arm candy and looked good when they went to social functions, together.

The door of the study opened. Owen knew it was Cristina because he could tell by the sound of her footsteps. When she was closer to him, he knew she was there by the scent of her perfume. It was a fresh, citrusy scent that made him feel like she had just stepped out of the shower. He loved that scent.

"Hey, I just brought you guys some tea and coffee," Cristina said. She handed Tamsin her coffee and she went across to Owen at his desk and placed his tea in front of him. "It's right in front of you at 12 o' clock."

"Thanks, Cristina," he said, with a smile. Cristina picked up the tray and left the room.

Tamsin took a sip of her coffee. "Who is that? Your little Asian plaything? Did you get her from a mail-order bride service?"

Owen nearly spat out his tea. "What the hell are you insinuating, Tamsin? How dare you insult Cristina like that?"

"Oh, so that's her name, Cristina," Tamsin said. "Well, I just saw this little Asian thing answering the door. Never saw her before in my life, so I am just asking questions."

"If you must know and I really don't think that you really need to know. Cristina has been assisting me in writing my book. She is my eyes and a sounding board for my ideas. She is an editorial assistant at Meteor and they sent her to help me finish my book," Owen said. "So, please save the insults."

"Oh, okay," Tamsin said. "So she has been staying here with you?"

"Yes, she has. How do you think that we can get the work done? She has been here four weeks and we have managed to accomplish a great deal," Owen said. "Cristina is like a godsend." Tamsin noted the way that Owen was vigorously defending the young assistant. She had also especially noticed the way he said the girl's name. It was almost like a caress.

"Hmm," she thought to herself. Getting back Owen was just a little bit harder, she thought. It seemed that her former boyfriend was smitten with the editorial assistant. Tamsin drained the last of her coffee. "I would like to freshen up before lunch. Can I use your room?" she said.

"No, you can use one of the other bedrooms. Not the one next to mine," he said. "That is Cristina's room. Any other room is fine."

"Yeah, sure, thanks," Tamsin said. She picked up her handbag and went up the stairs. Curiosity overcame her and she opened the door to Cristina's bedroom. It was a lovely room and the balcony had a wonderful view of the ocean. She scanned the room for Cristina's personal belongings. There was only one picture in the room on the bedside table. It was that of a young boy – maybe two or three years old. He had golden brown hair and light brown eyes. She wondered if that was Cristina's son. She wondered if Owen even knew that Cristina had a son. He was so smitten with her.

She was about to leave, when the door opened and Cristina came inside. "What are you doing in here?" she asked.

"Um, Owen told me that I could use one of the bedrooms to freshen up. I think I may have entered the wrong room," Tamsin said. "Sorry." She hurriedly left the room. Cristina looked around to see if anything was out of place but nothing was. She went to her bedside table and picked up Logan's picture. "Hey, baby," she said, before putting down the picture. She didn't trust that Tamsin woman at all.

* * *

It was around noon that Joyce announced that lunch was ready. Owen and Cristina found their way to the kitchen and started their lunch. Fifteen minutes later, Tamsin hustled in. "Couldn't someone tell me that lunch was ready?" She sat down and glared at Joyce. Joyce was not perturbed as she put down a bowl of clam chowder and slices of homemade bread next to her.

Joyce handed her a plate and said, loudly. "Everyone knows that lunch is served at noon, around here. Both Mr. Hunt and Cristina were here on time." Owen snickered a bit. Tamsin was totally aware that Joyce did not like her. That is why she enjoyed treating Joyce like a servant. "Well, I am a guest here and I would have appreciated some sort of notice from the hired help," Tamsin said, in a condescending tone. Owen caught it, immediately.

"Tamsin," he said. "We do not speak to Joyce like that. She is our housekeeper but she, Cristina and I are like a little family, here." Joyce looked gratefully at her boss and gave Tamsin an unfriendly look. "Thank you, sir," Joyce said.

"So, Cristina," Tamsin said. "I hear you're an editorial assistant at Meteor and you're helping Owen finish his book. So, how is it going?"

"Fine," Cristina said. "We have made great progress." Owen smiled.

"So how hard was it to leave New York and come out here to the boondocks?" Tamsin asked. Surely, the girl must find it hard to live here, after living the exciting life in New York.

"Well, my life was never action-packed," Cristina said with a laugh. "I like it here. It is quiet and I enjoy going out on the beach, very much. Owen comes out with me, on the beach, every day, now."

"What about your obligations in New York?" Tamsin pressed further.

"My obligations in New York are well taken care of," Cristina said.

"Really? What about your s-?" Tamsin started to ask but Owen interrupted. "Tamsin, stop giving Cristina the third degree. Why are you interrogating her like this? Please stop it." He was exasperated with her. "I trust that you will be leaving after lunch." He hated how she had treated Joyce and had made those insulting remarks about Cristina.

"Clearly, I know when I am not wanted. Yes, I will be leaving," Tamsin said. This visit had been a total bust, she thought.

"Tamsin, you are always welcome to visit but you must know I will not tolerate when you belittle any of the people living in this house," he said. "You can leave but we are the ones staying here."

"Well, maybe you shouldn't be, Owen. You haven't left this house, since your accident. There is a whole world out there," she said. "Maybe it is time for you to get back out there. You own an apartment in New York, which you don't even use."

"I will leave this house in my own good time," Owen said, in exasperation. After finishing her lunch, Tamsin put her coat back on and left. She gave Owen a kiss on the cheek. "Goodbye, Owen."

"Goodbye, Tamsin," he said. He stood at the doorway, listening to the sound of her car, as he drove off.

He sighed with relief. He could tell Cristina was behind him because he could smell her perfume. "She's not the nicest person," Cristina said. "But she is right about one thing."

"What?" he said. Cristina slipped her hand into his. "You need to get out of this house. You can't just be stuck here forever because you are blind. You need to interact with people other than Joyce and me. You need to start living again," she said, softly.

"How?" he said. He squeezed her hand. "I am going to help you," she said.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate it when you do take the time to do so.**


	5. Chapter 5 A Trip to Town

"Don't bother about making lunch today," Cristina told Joyce at breakfast. "Owen and I are going into town today for lunch."

"What?" Owen said, surprised. "We're going to town?"

"Yes," Cristina said. "Just part of my plan to get you back out there. We're going to drive into town and take a walk and then go to Mrs. Gerrity's place to have lobster rolls and fries and wash it down with some lovely iced tea."

"How do you know about Mrs. Gerrity's?" Owen asked. "That was one of my favorite places before the accident."

"Well, Joyce told me about it," she said. "Best lobster rolls in a 25-mile radius, Joyce said."

"Yes, they are," Owen said. "You'll see. I haven't had those lobster rolls in a long time. I am getting excited."

"Since you guys are going to town," Joyce piped up. "Could you go to the greengrocers and get me these vegetables and fruits? It would save me a trip." She came across and handed the list to Cristina. "Sure, no problem, Joyce," Cristina said. She tucked the list in her pocket. They continued with their breakfast, with Owen telling Cristina about all of the little shops in town.

When it was about 11.30 am., Cristina said, "I think it is time to go to town," she said. "We don't want to get there in the middle of the lunchtime rush. Are you ready, Owen?"

"As ready as I will ever be," he said. He got up and she handed him his cane. "While I will be holding your hand, you will be using your cane to feel your way on the ground. I don't want you tripping or hurting yourself."

"I know you will be there to protect me," he said, laughing.

"Well, yes, I will be," she said. "But you still have to be careful, out there." As they left the house, Cristina picked up the reusable grocery bags and yelled to Joyce, "We're leaving now. We should be back in about two hours." Joyce yelled back her acknowledgement.

Cristina led Owen to the car, opened the car door on the passenger side and let him get in, before she closed the door. She went and sat on the driver's side. "Don't forget to buckle up," she said. "Oh, yes," Owen said, as he felt for the seatbelt and then, the clasp before he could buckle himself in. It would have been quicker if she had buckled him in but she waited the extra time, so he could do it himself. "So, here we go," she said.

As they drove, she described everything that was happening around them – if there were other cars, animals or people around. It was a scenic drive and he closed his eyes and imagined it, as she spoke. It was on this very road that he had got into his accident. It only took them about 15 minutes to get to the town. Cristina parked the car, put a lot of coins in the meter and took Owen's hand as they headed down the sidewalk. It was one of those very picturesque coastal towns with lots of small businesses that catered to the tourists who came to enjoy the few months of warm weather. Owen could tell there were lots of people around but they gave him a wide berth when they saw him with the cane.

"It is like parting of the Red Sea," Cristina said. "People don't want to get smacked by your cane, so they are giving you a lot of room."

"So we are at an advantage with my cane," he said.

"I guess so," Cristina said. "So here we are at Mrs. Gerrity's. There is one step up. Feel it with your cane and go up." He did as she was told and stepped inside the establishment.

"Oh, my God, Owen Hunt," he heard a familiar voice say.

"Mrs. Gerrity?" he asked, a little bit unsure.

"Yes, it is me, honey," the older, grey-haired woman said. She gave him a hug and a kiss. "It has been so long since I have seen you in here. I am so sorry to hear about the accident." Mrs. Gerrity observed that Owen looked straight ahead. She had heard that he had gone blind, after the accident. She was sad to hear that. "I am going to put you at your favorite table in the corner so you and the young lady will have it a little bit on the quiet side."

"Oh, this is Cristina, she is an editorial assistant sent by the publishers to help me finish my latest book," Owen said. "She is from New York." Mrs. Gerrity nodded at Cristina and they shook hands.

"Ah, good, does that mean I am going to have the latest adventure of Alex Newland by Christmas?" Mrs. Gerrity asked.

"I hope so," Owen said. "Cristina and I have been working every day on the book. We're just taking a break to come here." Mrs. Gerrity handed Cristina the menu.

"Oh, we wouldn't need that," Cristina said. "We know exactly what we want."

"Lobster rolls," Owen said. "She was told that you have the best lobster rolls in a 25-mile radius."

"Yes, that is so true, even though I don't like to toot my own horn," Mrs. Gerrity said. "Why don't we start off with the soup of the day. It is a seafood bisque and then, you can have the lobster roll with potato wedges or a salad."

"That sounds good," Cristina said. "I will have the salad while I am sure that Owen will have the wedges, right?"

"Yup," Owen said. "Can I also have a beer? I am not driving." He laughed at his own joke.

"I will have iced tea," Cristina said. "I am the one driving." Mrs. Gerrity smiled and nodded. "Do you like the place?" Owen asked Cristina.

"Yes, it has a very beachy feel to it," Cristina said. "Lots of light and we have got a wonderful view."

"Yeah, that is why I always loved this particular table," Owen said. "Even though I can't see the view, anymore."

"I can see why you like this place so much," she said. Mrs. Gerrity returned with the soup. They stopped talking to take in the goodness of the soup. "You weren't kidding that the food here is good," Cristina said. She slurped a bit. "Oops," she said. He laughed. "At least I know you're enjoying it."

She really wished her mom and her son could come to Maine and enjoy the beach. She looked across at Owen and wondered if she could ask him if they could come. He seemed to be in a particularly good mood.

"Owen, can I ask you a favor?" she decided to broach the topic.

"Yeah, sure, anything, Cristina," he said. "You know you could ask me anything."

"Well, I was wondering whether my family could come for a visit. I haven't seen them in a couple of weeks and they would just love it here, being so near the beach," she said.

"Yeah, sure, why not?" he said. "I would like to meet them."

"Thanks, it won't be too much trouble because they would only stay a weekend," she said. "I know we have deadlines with the book and I don't want to take too much time away from that."

"Oh, that's fine. We need a break, anyway. One weekend won't hurt our deadlines," he said.

"Thank you so much, Owen," she said. "My mom loves to paint and she would love all of the seaside landscapes to paint. And my s-." She was going to say that her son would love to go to collect seashells on the beach but she was interrupted by the return of Mrs. Gerrity with the lobster rolls. "Ah, here are the famous Gerrity lobster rolls. I do think that they are pretty darn good. I made these two myself," she said. "I hope you do enjoy, especially you, Cristina, since you never tasted them before. Owen, I know, swears by them."

"Thank you, Mrs. Gerrity," Owen said. "Take a bite, Cristina." She took her first bite. The blend of the sauce on the lobster roll was spectacular, she had to admit. "That is delicious, Mrs. Gerrity," she said, before taking another big bite.

"I told you so, Cristina," Owen said. They enjoyed the rest of their meal in relative silence. After paying and leaving a generous tip, they then drove to the greengrocers to pick up Joyce's fruits and vegetables. Owen enjoyed all of the scents of the fresh fruits and vegetables. Since he lost his sight, all of his other senses had become sharpened, especially his sense of smell and hearing. As they left the greengrocers, Owen remarked, "I enjoyed coming into town and having lunch. We should do this more often."

"Yes, we should, but you must remember my time here is limited. I am only going to be here for a couple more weeks and then I am gone," she said. "We have to think of some long-term solutions for you."

"Long term solutions?" he repeated. He really didn't want to think about the time when Cristina would leave and go back to New York. He had greatly enjoyed her being there with him. It would make him terribly sad, he knew. He would miss her greatly, especially since he was developing feelings for her. He wondered if there was a way he could persuade her to stay.

"Yes, I was thinking maybe you can get a service dog," she said. "He can help you get around the town and also, when you go to New York, which you will eventually have to do because of your book. Plus service dogs can get in practically, anywhere."

He always liked dogs. "Can you look into that for me?" he asked.

"Yes, I will," she said. "I don't want you trapped in the house, when I leave. I would like to think of you and your dog walking along the beach and he taking you back to the house."

They drove back home and they went back to work in the study. Later that evening, after dinner, Cristina said she had to make a phone call. She ran to her room to tell her mother that she and Logan could come for a visit.

"Mom, mom," she said, when her mother answered. "I have some awesome news. Owen said the two of you can come for a visit for a weekend. So we have to plan it."

"Really? That is great. Logan would love to come. He hasn't seen you in a couple of weeks," Helen said.

"Yes, and he is going to have such fun, when he comes," Cristina said. "Let me talk to my baby."

Logan came on the phone and started saying, "Mommy, mommy, mommy."

"Logan, you are going to come visit Mommy in about a week or so," Cristina said. "I miss you so much."

"Beach?" Logan asked. He had heard that there was a beach where his mommy was.

"Yes, Logan, you can go to the beach and we will collect shells to decorate your room," Cristina said. The little boy giggled.

Meanwhile, downstairs, Joyce had brought out some ice cream for Owen.

"It's a pity she's not down here," Joyce said. "I did make some homemade ice cream for dessert."

"I will take up to her, after I finish my own," Owen said. "I want to thank for her taking me into town, today." He finished off the ice cream by licking the spoon clean. "I am ready to take hers up, now."

"Okay, but be careful going up those stairs," Joyce said. She handed him the ice cream and he headed up the stairs. He held on to the railing with one hand and balanced the cup of ice cream in the other.

Cristina's door was slightly ajar, since she had not closed it properly, when she ran into the room to make her call, so Owen could hear her clearly speaking on the phone. He decided to wait until she was through before he knocked on her door. She was giggling and laughing, then he heard her say something that he totally did not expect. "I love you, Logan," she said. "Goodbye."

Owen nearly dropped the cup of ice cream. He was flabbergasted by this, so he went straight to his room. "Who is Logan?" he said, aloud. Cristina had said that she did not have a boyfriend. Had she been lying to him? Had she been preying on his affections? She was already involved with someone named Logan. Why would she lie to him? He was saddened because he knew he had feelings for her. To comfort himself, he ate all of the ice cream.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. Thanks for taking the time to do so. It helps to know what you all think.**


	6. Chapter 6 Logan

Owen came down the next morning for breakfast, feeling a little bit uneasy. He had not slept well at all. He just couldn't believe that Cristina had a boyfriend, after saying that she was not seeing anyone. Why would she lie to him like that? It seemed like she was already at the breakfast table because he could hear her voice. It seemed that she was on the phone.

"I would like to book two tickets in the names of Helen Yang and Logan Cleary from New York to Portland, Maine," Cristina said. "The dates are from this Friday and returning on Sunday evening." She gave the agent her credit card number. "Yes, those flights are fine. Thank you."

She hung up the phone and noticed Owen coming in to the kitchen. "Good morning, Owen," she said in a cheery voice.

"Good morning," Owen said, in a less than cheery voice. "So Logan is coming?" Cristina thought that was an odd question. Of course, Logan was coming. He was her son, so he had to be coming.

"Yes," Cristina said, happily. "He'll stay in my room, Joyce. So only my mom will need a room." Owen inwardly cringed. Not only was her boyfriend coming but he was going to stay in the room with her. The thought of them, having sex in the room next to his, made his stomach churn. He had to steel himself for the weekend. He could not believe how uncomfortable it was going to be in his own house with Cristina's boyfriend there. He didn't even know the guy and he felt like pummeling him just because he was Cristina's boyfriend. Still, he consoled himself, it was only two days. He could survive that, he thought.

Joyce brought Owen his breakfast. His mood was dark at the moment. He only answered any questions with one or two words. He realized he was bitter and jealous. How could she get his hopes up that there could be something between the two of them and then to dash those hopes by bringing her damn boyfriend to his house? Cristina could tell that Owen was in not the greatest of moods. She wondered what was bothering him. She racked her brain, trying to figure out if she had done anything to upset him but she came up blank.

After breakfast, they headed to the study as they usually did. Unfortunately, it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere fast. He seemed pre-occupied and unable to think, properly. It was like pulling teeth from a dragon's mouth, she thought. Then, she had an idea. Maybe, if he couldn't get his own words going, then maybe he could listen to what she had written.

"Hey, Owen, would you like to listen to some of what I have written?" she asked, hopefully. He sighed. "Yeah, might as well. I am not getting anywhere, today, it seems. It can't hurt," he said.

"Okay," she said, excitedly. She found the document on her computer. "Okay, here goes. This is just the first chapter." She then read a couple of paragraphs, while he listened. He hadn't said anything, so she stopped. "What do you think, Owen?"

"That's so trite, Cristina. No real depth to it. It is all just pretty, flowery prose with no feeling behind it. I mean you do have a way with words but it doesn't mean anything. I was expecting much more from you than this drivel," he said. "I am not sure you have a talent for this." There was silence after he said it. What he couldn't see were that Cristina's eyes had filled with tears and they were now streaming down her face.

"I am going to get a glass of water," she said, as she left the room. She didn't want to him to hear her cry, especially since he had such a keen sense of hearing. Owen waited for her to come back. He felt maybe a half-hour had already passed. Surely, it could not take her that long to get a glass of water. He got up and found his way to the kitchen. He could hear Joyce, humming, as she prepared lunch.

"Joyce, did Cristina come in here to get a glass of water?" he asked.

"Yes, she did," Joyce said. "She came, got her water and then told me that she was going to take a walk on the beach."

"She was supposed to come back to the study to work with me," Owen said.

"I was rather surprised by that, too, but it seemed like she was crying," Joyce told him. Owen knew his words had hurt the young woman. It pained him to hear that she was crying. "Could you tell me when she gets back?" he asked. Joyce said that she would do so.

An hour passed and Joyce had not come to him. He went to the kitchen again. "I have your lunch ready, Mr. Hunt," Joyce said, as she laid the bowl of soup next to him. He sipped at the soup, hoping that Cristina would come back in time for lunch. After finishing his lunch, she still had not come back. He was getting alarmed. Suppose something had happened to her, he thought.

"Joyce, I am going to sit on the back porch and wait for her," he said. Joyce nodded. She could tell that Mr. Hunt was becoming agitated. "I am sure she will be back, soon," Joyce tried to reassure him. He wasn't so sure about that. He went out the back door and sat on the rocking chair on the porch and waited and waited.

At this point, he made a reckless decision. His anxiety about Cristina had made his rational decision making go down the tubes. He was going down to the beach to find her, even though he knew he would not be able to get back to the house without some help.

As his feet finally hit the sandy beach, he started walking, calling out her name, every few minutes. Someone asked if he needed help. He said he was looking for an Asian girl with curly hair and had the person seen her. The person replied in the negative and Owen went on his way. He knew he was walking further away from the house but his need to find Cristina was greater outweighed anything else. After about 45 minutes of being there on the beach, he knew he was lost. But still he hadn't found her. He sat down on the beach. He listened to the sounds around him, in case anyone was around to be able to guide him back to the house.

Then, he heard her voice. "Owen, what are you doing out here by yourself?" It was like hearing an angel. He stood up. "I came to find you," he said. "You were gone for so long that I was getting worried that something had happened to you."

"I needed to clear my head, that's all," she said. "Then, I stopped to help a little girl build her sand castle. It helped to pass the time."

He put out his hand for her, so she came to him and took his hand. "Well, let's get you back to the house. It was foolish of you to come out here to look for me," she said. Then, he did something really unexpected. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her.

"I am glad that I found you," he said. "Or rather that you found me. I am sorry about what I said."

"It's okay. If I am not good, then I might as well find that out, now," she said. "Though it did hurt me when you said it."

"I was in a bad mood and I took it out on you," he said. He had been angry and jealous and he had wanted to lash out at her about not telling him about her boyfriend. Especially, since he had started to get so invested in starting a relationship with her. "Your work is not drivel. You are actually a good writer. You just need some tightening up here and there. You have great potential. I will help you like you help me."

"Are you just saying that to make me feel better? I prefer you being honest with me. I don't want to delude myself in thinking that I might be able to make it as an author," she said.

"I am not lying," he said. "I am sorry I made you cry." She looked up at him. "Apology accepted," she told him.

"Cristina, I do care about you," he said. "That's why I came out here to look for you. It would have just been horrible if something had happened to you. You have been so good and kind to me and I treated you so badly."

"I do it because I care about you, too, Owen," she said. "You're a good friend. Okay, so let's get back to the house. I am hungry. I haven't had any lunch." He released his arms from around her and let her take his hand to guide him back to the house.

"It's a good thing you found me," he said. "I was starting to panic there a little bit." She laughed.

* * *

The rest of the week was productive for the pair. Owen had resigned himself to the fact that she had a boyfriend and they couldn't be a couple. But at least, she said she cared for him and it was true; she had been a wonderful friend. She had been so kind and patient with him and so willing to help him. Even if she wasn't going to be his girlfriend, she was still in his life.

On Friday night, he knew that Logan and Cristina's mom were coming. He had promised himself that he was going to be nice to Cristina's boyfriend. It still hurt, he knew but he had to be a man about it. Cristina had gone to Portland to fetch them at the airport. By the time, she got back, he would be already in bed. Around 11 p.m., he woke up to hear some activity in the bedroom next door. It seemed that Cristina was back from the airport. "Time to get into bed, Logan," he heard her say. He cringed. He had tried to not let it bother him but he couldn't help it

The next day, he heard some noises coming from the hallway outside of his bedroom. There was a loud clatter as if something had been dropped. "Oh, good grief, you dropped your bucket," he heard Cristina say. "You have to be quiet. There are people still sleeping around here. You wanted to get up early, so we have to be quiet."

Then, a small voice answered. Owen was taken aback. The small voice said, "Okay, shhhh." No way could that be a grown man, Owen thought. He called out to Cristina. She answered, "Yes, Owen. Did we wake you?" She then turned to the person she was with. "I told you not to make noise and then you drop your bucket and we woke him up."

"Can you come into my room?" Owen asked. "Sure," she answered. He could hear the door knob turning.

"Yes, Owen, can I help you?" she asked, as she stepped into the room. Owen was sure there were two sets of footsteps. He recognized Cristina's steps, immediately but there was another set of very light steps. This person had to be quite small.

"Who is with you?" he asked.

"Oh, I am sorry we're making so much noise and that we woke you up," Cristina said. "It is just me and my son, Logan."

"Logan is your son?" Owen said, his face breaking out into the hugest grin.

"Yes," she answered, a little bit puzzled. Didn't he know that Logan was her son?

"Can I meet him?" Owen asked. "Sure," Cristina answered, pulling Logan closer to the bed. She placed her son on the edge of the bed.

"Owen, I would like you to meet Logan Marcus Cleary," she said. When she said that Logan's middle name was Marcus, Owen Immediately knew that the father of the boy was her deceased fiancé, Marcus, who had died when they were about to graduate from college.

"Hey there, buddy," Owen said. "Will he allow me to touch his face?"

"Yeah," Cristina said. "Logan, he is going to touch your face. Remember I told you that he can't see so he kinda sees what you look like with his fingers."

"Okay," the little boy said. Cristina guided Owen's hands to feel her son's face. His skin was so soft, Owen thought, as he felt the boy's cheeks and his delicate features. "Hey, he has your expressive eyebrows, too." Cristina laughed. "That's the only thing he got from me," she said.

Owen ruffled the boy's curly hair. "He also has curly hair, too."

Cristina replied, "Yeah, he does but it is a different color. His coloring is like his dad's. He has golden brown hair and light brown eyes."

"Thank you, Logan, for allowing me to touch your face," Owen told the boy. Then, the boy did something really unexpected. He climbed on to Owen and gave him a hug. Owen hugged him back. "Nice to meet you, too, Logan."

"Glad to see you two getting along," Cristina said. "Logan and I are going down to the beach to collect shells and sand dollars."

"Sand dollars," Logan shrieked, excitedly. "Can I come?" Owen asked.

"Yes," Cristina said. "You don't have to change. Logan and I are just going down in our pj's. Nobody is around at this hour, so we don't care what we look like."

Owen quickly got out of bed and ran to the bathroom and brushed his teeth. "Okay, I am ready." They all went downstairs and went out the back porch. Joyce was in the kitchen, already. "We're just going to collect shells and sand dollars," Cristina told her. Joyce nodded.

So there they were on the beach. Cristina was in the middle, holding both Owen's and Logan's hands. "Ooh, here is a good spot, Logan. Lots of shells and sand dollars," she said. She told Owen to sit, while she and Logan went hunting for the shells and the sand dollars. As Owen sat there, listening to the mother and son chatter and laugh, he realized that those were some of the sweetest sounds he had ever heard.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. Thanks for being kind enough to leave your reviews.**


	7. Chapter 7 A Weekend in Maine

After filling up his bucket with lots of shells and sand dollars, three year old Logan was ready for breakfast. "Mommy, I am hungry," he yelled.

"Okay, I guess we could go back up for breakfast. I am sure that Joyce is ready with it," she said. "I wonder if Mom got up as yet. Come on, guys, let's go back." She picked up Logan's bucket, which was now too heavy with shells for him to lift. Logan ran ahead, while Cristina held on to Owen's hand, as they walked back to the house.

"Logan, wait for me on the porch," she yelled at her son. She hoped he had heard her. There was one thing that Joyce did not like and that was sandy shoes in the house.

"He is a great boy, Cristina," Owen said. "Very lively."

"Sometimes a little too lively," Cristina admitted. "Sometimes at night, when he can't go to sleep, neither can I. But he is terrific, I must say."

"It must be hard as a single, young mom to be raising a little boy by yourself," Owen said.

"Yeah, that's why I don't have much of a social life," she said. "If someone asks me out, I need to get advanced notice so I could get a babysitter. Sometimes, I can't get a babysitter and I can't go out. So, I barely date."

"What about your mom?" he asked. "Maybe she can see about Logan so you can go out."

"Well, the thing is my mom doesn't live with us. She lives in Westchester in our house. I live in Brooklyn in an apartment, when I am at work in New York City. Since I am up here, he is staying with my mom in Westchester," Cristina said. "He is going to start pre-school in the fall and that's good. My assignment here should be over by then."

Owen's heart sank. He couldn't stand it whenever she spoke about leaving and going back to New York. They arrived back to the house where Logan was waiting on the back patio. "Good boy," Cristina said, as she took off his shoes. She kicked off her sandy shoes, as did Owen. They walked in to the kitchen to find Helen already down there, having a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, did you all have a great walk on the beach?" Helen asked. Logan went and took a seat at the kitchen table.

"Yes, we did," Cristina answered. "Owen, I want you to meet my mom, Helen." She guided him to where Helen was sitting at the table. The two politely shook hands. "Good to meet you, Helen," Owen said.

"Likewise, Owen. I have heard so much about you," Helen said. Owen was surprised. "What has she been telling you about me? I hope it's good things," Owen said.

"Oh, lots of good things," Helen said. "She said you were a brilliant writer and an even better friend." Owen smiled. It was good that she thought those things about him.

"And it is all true," Cristina said. "But she didn't mention how handsome you were," Helen said, laughing.

"Oh, mom, you're going to inflate his ego more than what it already is," Cristina said.

"Helen, I can see that we are going to be friends," Owen said, grinning. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Okay, folks, here we go, breakfast is ready," Joyce said, as she placed a plate in front of each of them. "I wasn't sure what to do for Logan, here."

"He will have cereal," Cristina said. "He loves cereal." She got up and got a bowl of cocoa puffs and milk for her boy. As Logan ate his cereal, he was content and quiet while all of the adults chatted.

Joyce announced that she was planning a seafood boil for the afternoon. She had got shrimp, crabs and lobster from the market to do it. She said she would set up in the backyard, since the weather was good.

"That sounds terrific, Joyce," Owen said. "Yeah, I planned it because I know we were having guests. I am so pleased to meet Helen and Logan," Joyce answered.

"And we are very pleased to meet you," Helen said. "From this breakfast, I know you are a magnificent cook. I just wish you would pass on some of your cooking skills to my daughter. She is the most dreadful cook ever."

"Mom!" Cristina said. "Stop telling everyone my secrets." Owen laughed. "Oh, I would like to hear a lot more of Cristina's secrets."

"Pshaw, Cristina," Helen said. "Everyone knows you are a terrible cook. But you know what would really embarrass her?"

"What? What?" Owen said, eagerly. He wanted to hear more about Cristina from the person who probably knew her best.

"It was in high school when she had this crush on this boy, Robert and she wanted to ask him to the Sadie Hawkins dance. She got everything beforehand – the dress and the shoes. The only thing she didn't have was the boy. Every day, she chickened out and couldn't speak to him to ask him. She never did ask him and she stayed home the night of the dance. She never got to wear that dress that she made me buy," Helen said. Cristina groaned.

"Awww," Owen said. "That is one sad story, Cristina. If you had asked me to the Sadie Hawkins dance, I would have gone with you."

"Thank you, Owen. I was so shy in high school," she said. "Actually, that is only one example of my very sad existence in high school. So, Mom, no more." Helen laughed at her daughter's discomfort.

"Okay, so what are we going to do now?" Owen asked.

"I was thinking that I would take Mom and Logan into town to see the shops. Maybe we can have lobster rolls at Mrs. Gerrity's," Cristina said. "I don't know if you would be interested in coming."

"Yes, I would," he said. "Any chance to have a lobster roll at Mrs. Gerrity's."

"Good," Cristina said. "So we will meet in about an hour in the foyer. It will give us enough time to shower and change our clothes. Come on, Logan. Let's go get changed."

* * *

An hour later, they found themselves on the way to town. Helen found herself admiring the scenic route, while Logan talked non-stop to Owen about his favorite toys. Cristina realized that Logan was attracted to Owen since it was a male figure to which he could relate. She knew that her son missed having a daddy. It was sad that Logan and Marcus never met. But that was the way that life was sometimes. She looked across at Owen in the passenger seat. He looked so animated, conversing with Logan.

When they got to town, they checked out the souvenir shop where Cristina bought a t-shirt for Logan, then the chocolate store where chocolate and fudge were eagerly consumed, then they went to the clothing store and finally, the toy store. It was at the toy store that Logan had a meltdown. There was a toy train set on display and Logan was completely fascinated by it. He stood there, watching the trains go around and around the tracks.

"I want it, Mommy," he said. "Let's check the price, Logan," Cristina said. "Oh, my God, it's $300 for that train set. I cannot afford that, Logan. It's too much money for my budget." Logan's face set up to cry and Cristina knew he was going to create a scene. "But I want it, Mommy," he wept.

"Logan, if I could afford it, I would get it for you," Cristina told him. She tried to drag him away from the train set but he threw himself on the ground and started to roll around.

"Logan, get up," she said. "You're embarrassing me." She tried to pick him off the floor but the little boy stiffened himself to make it more difficult for her to pick him up.

"I will get it for him, Cristina," Owen said, digging into his pocket for his wallet. He hated hearing the little boy cry. It was so heart wrenching.

"You don't have to do that, Owen," Cristina said. "If I can't afford it, then he has to understand that." Logan suddenly got up from the floor and ran to Owen and hugged his leg. Owen picked him up and let the boy cry on his shoulder.

"Let's go," Cristina said. As Owen was carrying Logan, she held on to his arm to guide him down the street. "I think it is time to go to Mrs. Gerrity's for lunch. Maybe that will cheer him up."

When they got to Mrs. Gerrity's place, they were led to Owen's favorite table. "This is a lovely table," Helen said. "It has a fabulous view." Logan was sitting on Owen's lap. He was still mad at his mother for not getting him the train set. He glared at her from across the table.

"Logan doesn't love mommy right now, but that's okay," Cristina said. "He has to learn that he can't get everything." Mrs. Gerrity came across, with a beaming smile. "Well, hello folks, we have guests today, it seems."

"Yes, Mrs. Gerrity," Cristina said. "This is my mom, Helen and the little boy on Owen's lap is my son, Logan."

"Oh, my, he is a handsome young man and look at all of those golden brown curls. He looks like a cherub," Mrs. Gerrity said.

"Well, he is certainly not acting like a cherub right now," Cristina said.

"You know what? I am sure he would like a mini-lobster roll, made for someone just his size," Mrs. Gerrity. "I am going to guess that everyone else is ordering lobster rolls." They all nodded. "Okay, lobster rolls and potato wedges for everyone plus iced tea to wash it all down." She disappeared with their order.

"Mom, these are the best lobster rolls I have ever eaten," Cristina said. She looked across at Owen. Logan's tears had long been dried up and he and Owen were playing with each other. She was glad that they were getting along because Logan needed a male influence in his life.

When Mrs. Gerrity came with the food, Logan immediately slipped off Owen's lap and went and sat in the chair next to his mother. "So you're only coming to me when I have the food," Cristina said, shaking her head. She gave him a potato wedge to chew on. Logan hungrily ate it. He finished off his potato wedges. He couldn't hold his mini-lobster roll, properly, so Cristina held it for him, while he took a bite. "Good," he said, happily, after he finished his first bite.

"Logan knows when things taste good," Owen said. "Yup," the little boy said, as he continued to enjoy his roll. At the end of the lunch, Owen paid the bill and they got back into the car and drove back to the house.

* * *

Later that day, Joyce was working on her seafood boil in the backyard. Joyce enjoyed cooking in the backyard, since it really comprised the beach and the ocean. Cristina was helping her with it. "Now, they say you are a terrible cook but I don't believe that. I think all you need is someone with a little bit of patience and I have lots of it. This is going to be a most delicious seafood boil and you are going to help."

"Thank you for your confidence in me, Joyce," Cristina said.

"Where is your little boy?" Joyce asked. "He is such a beautiful boy, Cristina. You must be proud."

"I am but he is a little boy so sometimes, he can be naughty. He is with Owen, right now, playing," Cristina said.

"Ah, they are getting along very well, aren't they?" Joyce said. Cristina nodded. "I know. I think Logan craves male companionship. Mom and I do the best that we can but we are not guys and sometimes, he wants to play rough-and-tumble and we don't do that very well."

"He is good for Mr. Hunt, too," Joyce said. "Actually, so are you. Since you have been here, I have never seen him smile so much. He has always been a loner but it got worse after the accident. He was terribly bitter but with you here, he just positively lights up."

"He is a great friend, and I would like to think that I am a great friend to him, too," Cristina said. Joyce smiled, wondering if Mr. Hunt and Cristina could be more than friends.

About two hours later, the seafood boil was ready and everyone came out to have a nice outdoor dinner at the picnic table. As everyone sat down, Joyce made the point to note that Cristina had played an integral part in the preparation and cooking of the seafood boil.

"I am almost afraid, now," Helen said. She took her first bite. "Oh, my God, this is heaven."

"See, I am not so bad," Cristina said. "You never had the patience to teach me, mom. Joyce is a better teacher."

"That she is, I have to admit," Helen said. "Keep it up, Joyce. Anything we can do to improve Cristina's culinary skills."

"It's really good. Compliments to the two chefs," Owen said. Cristina and Logan sat down on the bench, right next to Owen, while Joyce and Helen were on the opposite bench. As usual, Cristina fed Logan first before she could have her own share of the seafood boil. When he was done, he hopped off and started running around the backyard. Everyone else had finished eating, except for Cristina, so Owen sat with her, while she ate. They didn't say anything, as they just sat in companionable silence, just enjoying being with each other.

After dinner, Cristina and Joyce cleared up the table while Owen had taken charge of Logan. They were sitting on the back porch, with Logan in Owen's lap. Soon enough, both of them fell asleep with Logan resting his head on Owen's chest. As Joyce passed them on the way to the kitchen, she remarked, "Isn't that the cutest thing ever, Cristina?" Cristina had to admit that it was.

* * *

The next day, everyone spent it on the beach, collecting shells, building sandcastles and enjoying the water. It was a good day but it had to end because that very evening, a taxi was coming to pick up Helen and Logan to take them to the airport. When the taxi arrived, Cristina hugged her little boy and told him to be a good boy for Grandma. It was then that Logan realized he was leaving and his mother was staying behind. He started to cry, uncontrollably and clung to his mother. His little heart was breaking. "I want to stay, mommy," he said over and over again.

"Mommy has to work, Logan," she told him, as she tried to get his arms from around her neck. But he clung even tighter and cried even louder. Owen could hear how Cristina's voice broke as she spoke to her son. He felt so bad for the both of them. He, too, knew he was going to miss the little boy.

"Let him stay," Owen said. Cristina looked at him in surprise.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate them.**


	8. Chapter 8 Living with Logan

"Are you sure about that?" Cristina asked in surprise. "You've only experienced him for two days. You don't know what it is like to live full-time with a very energetic three-year-old."

"Yes, I am very sure," Owen said. "I have enjoyed Logan's company over the past two days. I just want to get to know him better. He helps to make the whole house come alive." Cristina turned to her mom. "Mom, are you okay with this?"

"Yes," Helen said. "It is fine if he stays with you. I love my grandson very much but sometimes, I could deal with the peace and quiet. "She gave Logan a loving look. "Come, baby, give Grandma a hug and a kiss." The little boy ran to his grandmother, who picked him up in her arms and gave him a big hug. She put him down and he ran back to his mother and jumped in her arms. He was a very happy, little boy. They waved, as Helen got into the taxi and it drove away. They watched it until it disappeared as it turned at the end of the driveway.

"Okay, Logan," Cristina said. "Let's get you a bath and put on your pjs." Owen followed them back into the house, listen to Logan chatter to his mom. It was a wonderful sound, he thought.

* * *

The next morning, Owen was passing Cristina's bedroom and clearly heard her scolding Logan. The door of the bedroom was open, so he stopped and asked what had happened.

"Oh, Logan had a little accident, last night. We are trying not sleeping with pull-up diapers at night and last night, we had a failure," Cristina said. If Owen was not blind, he would have seen that Logan had a very sheepish look on his face. "You know, Logan," Cristina spoke to her son. "You are supposed to wake Mommy up, when you need to go to the bathroom."

"But I was sleeping, Mommy," Logan protested. Cristina threw her hands up in the air and shook her head. "Then, that is why we should still wear the pull-ups at night, if you can't get up to tell me that you need to go to the bathroom."

Owen could hear that Cristina was stripping the sheets off the bed. "I just need to get all of this into the laundry, this morning," she said.

"If you wish, I could take Logan down to breakfast," Owen said. Cristina reluctantly agreed. "Okay, you can take him. I already gave him a bath and changed his clothes. Logan, you go with Owen." Logan went across to Owen and slipped his tiny hand into Owen's large hand.

"Now, you two, be careful going down those stairs," Cristina said. "Please, I wouldn't be able to take it if you two roll down the stairs together." She knew that a blind man and a three-year-old boy were not an ideal combination when it came to going up and down stairs. Still, she trusted Owen enough to get her boy safely down the stairs.

"Don't worry, Cristina," Owen reassured her. "I have been traversing these stairs for months and not once, I have capsized or taken a tumble. I will take good care of him. I always hold on to the railing, quite tightly."

"Okay, thank you," Cristina said. "I will join you, once I get these sheets into the laundry." Owen and Logan headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He held on tightly to the railing with one hand and Logan's hand in the other.

When they reached the bottom of the steps, Owen whipped out his cane that he had in his pocket and started using it. "Why do you use that stick?" Logan asked.

"Because I can't see, I use the cane to feel what is in front of me, so I won't run into it and hurt myself," Owen said.

"I can take you to the kitchen," Logan said, confidently. He tugged at Owen's hand. "I will take you."

"Okay," Owen said. He followed the little boy's lead and they safely made it to the kitchen.

"Hello, Mr. Hunt and young Logan," Joyce said. "I have breakfast ready. Logan, I know you like cereal for breakfast. Do you want to try some eggs and ham with toast?"

"Yes," Logan said. He was feeling to experiment this morning.

"Where is your mommy?" Joyce asked. It was strange not to see Cristina with Logan. Logan stayed silent. He was a little ashamed about wetting the bed. Owen took pity on him and answered for him,"Logan had a teeny weeny accident last night. Cristina stripped the bed and is in the laundry room, by now, I guess."

"Aww," Joyce said. "We all have accidents, now and then. It's okay. Do you want me to feed you?" She had placed the plate in front of him.

"That's okay, Joyce. I am here," Cristina said. She sat down next to her son and started to feed him.

"Coffee, Cristina?" Joyce asked. "Yes, thank you," Cristina replied, gratefully. Joyce placed a hot cup of coffee in front of the young woman. "Joyce, can Logan stay with you in the kitchen while Owen and I work in the study?"

"Of course," Joyce said. "There will be no better company. Logan and I will have a great time. I will teach him how to make cookies."

"Oh, thank you," Cristina said. Both she and Owen still had to make progress in finishing the book before the end of summer. They had a tight deadline and it would not do if she was pre-occupied in taking care of Logan while they had to work.

After breakfast, Cristina and Owen disappeared into the study, while Logan and Joyce remained in the kitchen. Logan had a fine time with Joyce, as they made chocolate chip cookies. By lunchtime, Cristina and Owen emerged from the study and went to the kitchen. "I am not staying, Joyce," Cristina said. "I have to go into town and get some clothes, underwear and shoes for Logan. He doesn't have much clothes with him since he was only supposed to stay for the weekend. So I am leaving him here in your care." She kissed her son and told him to be a good boy and not give too much trouble. Logan had a smile that was like a ray of sunshine.

She headed out of the house and drove into town. Joyce settled herself next to Logan and fed him, while Owen quietly ate his lunch. When Logan was through, he climbed into Owen's lap and held the man's face in his very small hands. "Why can't you see?" Logan asked, solemnly. As far as he could tell, there was nothing wrong with Owen's face. He stared into Owen's expression-less blue eyes.

"I can't see because some glass went into my eyes. I had an accident," Owen said.

"Accident?" Logan said, very alarmed. He had an accident that very morning. Was he not going to be able to see again? Owen caught the tone in Logan's voice and answered quickly, "Not your kind of accident, Logan. I was in a car and I went over the cliff. I had lots of hurts," he said. He wanted to use words that Logan would understand.

"Hurts? Booboos?" Logan asked. "Yes," Owen said. "Very bad boo boos. I was in the hospital for a long time." Logan knew what a hospital was. His granny had been in the hospital, when she fell down and broke her hip. "Ohhh," Logan said, in an understanding voice.

When Cristina returned from her trip into town, she found Logan sitting in Owen's lap and they seemed engrossed in conversation. "Did you guys have a great time?" she asked, as she dumped her shopping bags next to her.

"Yes!" Logan shouted at the top of his voice. Owen grinned at the little boy's boisterousness.

"Logan, inside voice, please," she said, grateful for the lunch that Joyce had set in front of her. As she ate, Owen and Logan continued their conversation about the best games that the little boy liked to play. Cristina was glad that they were getting on so well. She had been a little unsure when Owen had suggested that Logan stay for the rest of her assignment but it seemed that her fears were unfounded. She found herself thinking how good they looked together. She shook her head. She had to stop thinking like that. She and Logan were going to leave in a couple of weeks and this time here in this beach house in Maine would be just a memory for the two of them. She probably would see Owen, when he would come to New York for meetings with Phyllis, she thought. But that was the full extent of what their future would be like, she reminded herself. Still, it was hard not to smile, when she saw them interacting so well with each other.

After lunch, Owen and Cristina continued to work with each other, while Logan took his afternoon nap. It was a blessing that little kids usually needed a nap during the day, she thought. Later that evening, they all had dinner together before taking a walk on the beach, while the sun set. It had been a good day, Owen thought. Everyone retired to their respective bedrooms, after their walk.

* * *

Later on, in the middle of the night, Cristina found herself alone in her bed. She had reached out for her tiny sleeping companion, only to find him missing. She wondered if he had gone to the bathroom by himself. "Logan," she called out but there was no answer from the bathroom. She turned on the lamp on the bedside table. She then noticed the bedroom door was open. Was he wandering around the house in the middle of the night? She got out of bed and looked down the corridor to notice that Owen's bedroom door was also open. "Oh no," she said to herself. "He must have gone in there." She stepped softly towards Owen's bedroom. From the light in the hallway, she could make out a small figure standing next to Owen's bed. Logan was staring at Owen in fascination.

"Logan," she whispered his name. "What are you doing in here?"

"He can't see me, Mommy, so it is okay," Logan said in a loud and clear voice. Good grief, Cristina thought.

"He can't see you, Logan but he can certainly hear you," she said. "Let's get out of here before he wakes up. Come on." Little did she know that Owen was already awake. He was just pretending to be asleep. In fact, he had been awake, ever since little Logan had opened the door to come inside. Owen's hearing had become so acute, since he had lost his sight. He wanted to laugh at Cristina and Logan's conversation, with her trying to get him out of there.

"Come on," she repeated. "Let's go back to bed." Logan turned and went to his mother. "He's still sleeping, Mommy."

"Good," Cristina said. "Let's go back to our room." She quietly closed Owen's door and mother and son returned to their bedroom.

In the darkness of his room, Owen could not help but chuckle. Logan was such a trip, he thought. The boy was such a joy. He was glad that he had allowed him to stay. In a way, Cristina and Logan were like his own little family. He wasn't aware of it until now but he yearned for a family. He had been a loner for so long, ever since his parents died. He hadn't really had a family since then. Having Cristina and Logan around made him want it even more.

But he and Cristina were not even a couple. Maybe it was time to change that. Maybe it was time to actively pursue her. There was something he had to do first. He remembered when the doctor had mentioned it to him, those months ago. Those were dark times for him. He had undergone numerous surgeries, which left him rather morose. Now that he had something or more correctly, someone to look forward to, maybe it was time to rethink it all. He knew what he was going to do.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. Thanks for continuing to read this story. I do appreciate when you leave your reviews.**


	9. Chapter 9 Visit to the doctor

It was Saturday morning at breakfast that Cristina told Owen that she had a surprise for him. "A surprise!" Logan said, excitedly. He loved surprises and usually, surprises meant parties or a gift.

"Not for you, Logan," Cristina told her son. "It's for Owen." Logan's face fell but he brightened up right after. If it was a surprise for Owen, Logan was sure that Owen would share whatever surprise with him. After all, Logan concluded in his three-year-old mind, Owen was his friend and friends always share.

"Really?" Owen said. "A surprise? Should I be afraid?" He grinned. It was nice of her to try and surprise him.

"Of course not," Cristina said, firmly. "It is a good surprise and would I ever do anything to scare you?"

"You never know," Owen said. "Anyway, I am excited and I am sure Logan is, too. When do I get my surprise?" Logan showed his approval by yelping, loudly.

"Well, it is not here at the house. I am taking you somewhere," she said. "So right after breakfast, we will all head down to where the surprise is."

"Okay," Owen said. He did love the little outings with Cristina and Logan. Both Owen and Logan finished up their breakfast as fast as they could. They still had to wait, impatiently, while Cristina finished hers. "Hurry up, Mommy," Logan said.

"Well, I would be finished, if I didn't have to make sure you ate first," Cristina said. Logan recognized the logic of this but it did not make him less impatient. After she took her last bite, she said, "Finally done." Even though Owen did not say anything, he was just as anxious as Logan. He breathed a sigh of relief, which Cristina heard. She smiled.

"Well, okay then, let's get into the car," she said. "See ya, Joyce."

"See ya, folks. Have a good time," Joyce replied. Cristina held Owen's hand and led him to the front passenger seat of the car. Then, she buckled in Logan into his car seat. He kicked up his feet in glee.

"It is just about 45 minutes from here," Cristina said, as she turned on the ignition. It was a rather pleasant drive with Cristina having Owen and Logan guess where they were going. Every guess they offered was wrong, as it turned out. She turned into the driveway of a rather bright-looking building. Owen was pretty sure he heard a dog barking in the distance.

She got out of the vehicle and unbuckled Logan from his car seat. She then took Owen's hand and went into the building. It was there that Logan let the proverbial cat out of the bag. But in this case, it wasn't a cat. "Doggies!" Logan screamed. "There are doggies here, Owen."

"Logan's right, Owen," Cristina said. "There are lots of doggies here. This is Good Dogs, a guide dog organization to help people with disabilities. Owen, remember I promised you that I would look into getting you a guide dog to help you get around. I am going to be leaving in three weeks and I want to make sure that you have a dog." Owen felt a pang in his chest when he heard her mention that she was going to be leaving in three weeks. It just seem all too soon for her and Logan to be leaving his life. He couldn't let that happen.

"Ah, here she is," Cristina whispered to him. "The manager of the facility, Lorraine Gallagher." Owen nodded. "Mrs. Gallagher, we spoke on the phone. I am Cristina Yang. You don't know me but I recognize your picture from the organization's website."

"Yes," Mrs. Gallagher said. "You're looking for a guide dog for your friend. Well, as I explained, we usually take references before we take on a new client."

"Yes, I know that," Cristina said. "But this is Owen Hunt, the author." Cristina hoped that Owen's fame would get them a foot in the door. Mrs. Gallagher stared at Owen, before the recognition finally hit her.

"Oh my God. Owen Hunt. I love your books. Is there a new one coming out soon? Maybe for Christmas?" Mrs. Gallagher asked hopefully.

"Yes, we seem to be moving in that direction," Owen said. "Cristina has been helping me."

"I was very sorry to hear about your accident," Mrs. Gallagher said. "So I guess that is the reason why you are here, today."

"Well, yes, Cristina thinks that a dog might help me get out of the house, more," Owen said, giving the woman a dazzling smile. Mrs. Gallagher certainly felt the glare of that smile as she found herself blushing. She was glad that he couldn't see her blush because that would have just made it worse.

"I think so, too," she answered. "Do you want to come and meet some of our trainee dogs?"

"Yes!" Logan answered. "Doggies!" Mrs. Gallagher smiled at his enthusiasm. "I am sorry but this is my son, Logan. He is a little on the loud side. He is very excited about the dogs."

"Aww, it is good when people are excited about our dogs," Mrs. Gallagher said. Owen, Cristina and Logan followed Mrs. Gallagher into the facility. She showed them some of the dogs being trained. Cristina explained to Owen all of the activity.

"There is one dog I would like you to meet," Mrs. Gallagher said. "She is just about to graduate. Her name is Daisy. Troy, can you bring Daisy over?" She beckoned to a young man with a beautiful golden retriever, wearing a vest. Logan ran to them and hugged the dog, tightly.

"Logan, don't do that, she is training," Cristina chided her son. "She is wearing her vest."

"Oh, Daisy can handle the loving of a little boy," Mrs. Gallagher said. They watched as Daisy gave Logan a lick on the face. Logan, Troy and Daisy came across with Logan still patting the dog on her head.

"Daisy is nearly two years old and she has been training since she was eight weeks old," Mrs. Gallagher said. Cristina guided Owen's hand to feel Daisy's soft furry head. "She is really beautiful, Owen," Cristina told him. "She has the softest brown eyes." Daisy licked Owen's hand.

"Yes, well, somebody lucky is going to get Daisy," Troy, the young man said. "I am going to miss her like crazy but she is an excellent guide dog and she has the sweetest disposition ever."

"Do you think that you would be interested in Daisy?" Mrs. Gallagher asked Owen. "Yes," Cristina answered for him. Owen knew that Daisy was a lovely dog but he didn't want to make a commitment to take her as yet. He had other plans in the brewing but he knew if those plans didn't work out, he would still need Daisy. He nodded.

"Good," Mrs. Gallagher said. "We probably would need to start your training soon. It is not only about training the dog, it is also about training the person she is going to help."

"Yes, I understand," Owen said. "What about the week after?" Hopefully, by that time, he would have seen his doctor and gotten the verdict.

"Good, good," Mrs. Gallagher said. She would be happy if Daisy would be able to help him.

It was a lovely drive back to the house. Logan could not stop talking about how pretty Daisy was. It was clear that he would be extremely ecstatic if Owen brought Daisy back to the beach house. Cristina noticed how quiet Owen was. She reached out and touched his hand. "Is something the matter? You're very introspective," she said.

"Oh, it's nothing. Just thinking about when you and Logan leave. I will miss you both very much," he said. She squeezed his hand. "We're still going to be friends when we leave. When you're in New York, Logan and I would love to see you. Maybe we could go out to dinner somewhere, just the three of us," she told him.

"Yeah, that would be nice," he said. "Cristina, I have an appointment with my doctor in Portland, next week. I was wondering whether you could take me there." The truth was that he didn't have an appointment as yet but he was going to make sure he had one.

"Sure," she said. "Is something wrong? Are you in pain?" He could hear the anxiety in her voice. "No, no, I am okay. I am just doing a check-up," he said. "To see if everything is back in working order."

"Okay," she said. "That's a relief. I guess you, me and Logan can take the trip to Portland. It would be a nice break to get out of the house and into the city."

"Yes," he said. "It would be." He made a mental note to ensure that he made that appointment. It was very important.

* * *

Owen did get an appointment with his doctor at St. Finbar's Hospital. That was where he had all of his surgeries and spent a lot of recovery time, there. His main doctor was Dr. Harrison Edwards and that was whom he was going to visit.

Cristina, Logan and Owen set off early to Portland on the day of his appointment. After Owen's appointment, they were going to have lunch in the city, before heading back home.

At the hospital, Owen, Logan and Cristina were in the waiting room, awaiting for the receptionist to call his name. Logan had discovered a play area with toys, so he was happy. Then, the receptionist called out Owen's name. She came forward to guide him to the doctor's office. "Good luck," Cristina said.

"Your wife and son will stay out here?" the receptionist asked. Owen smiled before he answered, "Yes, Logan will probably get restless while the doctor and I have our conversation."

"He is very cute," the receptionist said. "And so full of energy. All of that curly hair, too."

"Yup," Owen replied. "That's our Logan." He was not going to correct the receptionist's misconception about Cristina and Logan being his wife and son.

In the examination room, Owen had his blood and urine taken and he underwent a series of tests. In the end, Dr. Edwards was very pleased.

"Other than your eyes, you seemed to have recovered incredibly well," Dr. Edwards said. "You are a perfectly healthy young man."

"Doctor Edwards, that is what I want discuss with you," Owen said. "I was hoping that something could be done about them. Remember a couple of months ago, you mentioned corneal transplants but I was not really that interested because of my attitude back then. I was terribly bitter and was undergoing so many other surgeries at the time that I just didn't want to listen. I think I am ready to listen, now."

"Well, it does seem that you do exude a more positive energy, right now. You seemed to have changed a lot. Is there a reason?" Dr. Edwards asked.

"Yes, someone has come into my life and it is because of her, I want to see whether I am a good candidate for it," Owen asked. "There is nothing more in the world I want than to see her face." Dr. Edwards smiled. Often, love and support were the key ingredients to a person's full recovery. It was clear that Owen had found that.

"I am glad that you found someone. Now I am no expert on eyes, so I will refer you to my colleague, Dr. Louis Kemper. He is a brilliant ophthalmologist. He would be the best one to tell you. I will take you across to him myself," Dr. Edwards said. "Let's go." He allowed Owen to take his arm and they walked out of the office. "Do you see her?" Owen asked. "Asian girl with lots of curly hair." Dr. Edwards looked around. "Yes, I see her. She is very pretty. Hopefully, you will get to see what she looks like," the doctor said. Cristina observed the two men leaving the office, wondering where they were going. She assumed that Owen was going to have another examination done elsewhere. She wasn't wrong.

At Dr. Kemper's office, Owen was examined by the ophthalmologist. "So, Doctor Kemper, what is the verdict?" Owen asked, eagerly. He was anxious to find out.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate when you leave your reviews.**


	10. Chapter 10 The Good News

"Is it good news?" Owen asked, anxiously. His heart was set on it being good news.

"Well, from all indications," Dr. Kemper said. "It seems that you are a good candidate for the procedure."

"Oh, my God," Owen said. He was so joyful. He couldn't wait to tell Cristina about it. "How soon can we do this?"

"Hold on," Dr. Kemper said. "I will have to get in touch with the Eye Bank to be able to get the tissue from them. When I do so, we will be in touch with you. You're lucky. Unlike other organs, there is an adequate supply of corneas in the United States, so we should be able to get it, fairly soon."

"Thank you," Owen said. "So good news, Dr. Edwards."

"Yes, Owen, I am happy for you," Dr. Edwards said. "Let's head back to my office. I am sure Dr. Kemper will contact you, when it is time for you to come in." He offered Owen his arm and they walked back to his office. Cristina was waiting, anxiously for Owen. He did seem to be taking rather long. When he stepped into the waiting room with the doctor, she noticed he had the hugest smile on his face. The doctor walked Owen over to Cristina and placed Owen's hand on Cristina's arm. "Well, Owen, I now leave you in good hands. We will be in touch very soon."

"Wait, Dr. Edwards. I want you to meet Cristina Yang. She has been helping me finish off my latest book," Owen said.

"Very pleased to meet you," Cristina said. "I trust that everything is a-okay with Owen."

"Yes, yes,"Dr. Edwards, shaking Cristina's hand. "Better than okay but I will let Owen tell you. Goodbye, folks." As she watched the doctor leave, Cristina turned to Owen. "What did he mean by that?" she asked.

"Oh, let's go to lunch and I will tell you there," Owen said.

"Okay," Cristina said. "Logan, time to leave." The little boy reluctantly left the play area and ran to Owen. "Pick me up," he demanded of Owen. "You can walk, Logan," Cristina protested. "It's okay," Owen replied, as he bent down and gathered up into his arms. Cristina took his hand to guide him and they left the office.

They drove to a restaurant, near the water. "This is really pretty, Owen," Cristina said. She admired the view of the water. He had earlier made the suggestion about this particular restaurant. "Yes," he answered. "I used to come here a lot before the accident, whenever I drove into the city."

"Mr. Hunt," the waiter came over. "It has been a long time since we have seen you here."

"Hello, Donald," Owen said. He had recognized the waiter's voice, even though he couldn't see him. He knew he had asked for a table in Donald's area because he was such an exceptional server. "Yes, it has been a while."

"We heard about the accident. I trust you are doing well, now," Donald said. "Yes, very well. Actually, we just came from the doctor's and he gave me a clean bill of health," Owen replied.

"So shall we start with some drinks?" Donald asked. "Yes, some white wine for the lady and a scotch for myself," Owen said. "And an orange juice for the young one." As the waiter went away to get their drinks, Cristina said, "I can't drink too much since I have to drive home."

"One drink won't hurt," Owen told her. "Plus there is some news that I want to share, as soon as Donald gets back with our drinks." Donald came back, rather quickly and then took their orders. Logan said he wanted spaghetti and meatballs. Cristina sighed. She could just imagine all of the tomato sauce spread across Logan's face and what a task it would be to get his face clean, afterwards.

"Well, did you notice that we went across to another office?" he asked. "Yes," she answered. "I wondered where you guys were going."

He had a big grin on his face. "Well, what is the one thing that would make life easier on a day to day basis?"

"Me," she said, laughing but in reality, she was only half-joking. She did like to think herself indispensable to Owen.

"That is not a far stretch from the truth," he said. He felt for her hand and squeezed it. "You do make life a lot easier every day. But not just easier, you just make every day better for me." She smiled, even though she knew that he did not see it. She squeezed back his hand. "You make life better for me, too," she said. "My life has been made richer just because I know you."

"Thanks," he said. "But the thing I was talking about was something the doctor told me. Can you guess?" She thought about it for two minutes. The only thing she could think about that would make his life easier would be if he could see again.

"Is it…?" she paused. She wasn't sure if she should say it. "Will you be able to see again?" Owen grinned. "Yes, that is the hope. Dr. Edwards took me over to one of his colleagues, a Dr. Kemper, who is a renowned ophthalmologist. He examined my eyes and he said that I am a good candidate for corneal transplant."

Cristina's mouth dropped open. But then she answered, "That, Owen, is the most wonderful news. I am so happy for you." She got up and went to the other side of the table and gave him a hug and a kiss on his cheek.

"What's happened, Mommy?" Logan asked, puzzled. He knew something good had happened because his mommy had hugged Owen.

"I am going to do something that will probably make me see again," Owen said. He wanted to explain the surgery in the simplest words so Logan could understand. "Wow," Logan said. If Owen could see again, Logan surmised, then maybe they could toss balls with each other on the beach. He didn't seem to realize that by the time Owen got his operation, he and his mommy would be back in New York. In his mind, he and his mommy were going to stay with Owen, forever.

"Then we could play toss," Logan said, triumphantly. Cristina knew that wasn't really going to happen and was going to say so but Owen spoke before her. "Sure, we will, Logan," he said. "We will play toss if you want. "

"I can't catch so good," Logan admitted. His hand and eye coordination was not yet up to par and he was a little ashamed. "That's okay," Owen said. "You will be a tossing champion before you know it. You and I can practice all of the time." Logan laughed, happily. Cristina was a little wary about what Owen was saying. She really didn't want to disappoint Logan, especially since they would be probably gone by the time Owen was in a state to be able to toss a ball around. Still, she decided to stay quiet. Maybe Logan would forget about it.

"So when is the surgery going to take place?" Cristina asked. "The doctor said he would contact me, as soon as they get the tissue," Owen said. "He said it shouldn't be too long because he can get the tissue from the eye bank."

"That's terrific. Maybe we can finish the book before you undergo surgery," she said. "Yes," he responded. "I think that would be good."

"Well, we only have two more weeks of my assignment and the way we have been progressing, I think it will be done by that time," Cristina said. Owen's heart fell. Two more weeks left at the beach house and they would be gone. "Yes," he said, quietly.

Donald, the waiter, brought across their food. "Enjoy!" he said, as he left. As they dug into their food, Owen's joy about the possibility of being able to see again was tempered by the fact that his "family" was going to leave. He was a mix of emotions. After lunch, they drove home. The car was silent, except for Logan's chatter from the back seat.

* * *

After a week, Owen got the call that he was expecting from Dr. Kemper. The doctor asked if he could come in the following week for the surgery. That was sooner that Owen was expecting. He hung up the phone and let out a big breath. He was in the study with Cristina, since they were working on the last few pages of the final chapter.

"It has been scheduled for next week," Owen said. He was extremely excited that he couldn't contain himself. Cristina was ecstatic for him. "Will you take me to the hospital?" he asked.

"Sure, if you want me to," she said. "It looks like we are going to finish the book by the time you go in for surgery." Owen nodded. He knew it was a huge milestone for him. After the accident, he never thought that he would be able to complete his half-finished book. Cristina had been a huge part in helping him with it. "Thank you," he said.

"What? Why are you thanking me?" she asked. "For everything," he replied. "Without you, this book would have never been completed."

"Pshaw," she said. "I was just doing my job. Besides, this has been the best three months of my working life. I got to meet you. I lived by this beautiful house by the beach and you were kind enough to let Logan stay. This has been the best assignment a girl could ask for. I am sure my next assignment won't be as great. I have loved it here and being with you." He noted that she said that she loved being with him. He was just so happy when she said that. He hoped he wasn't misinterpreting what she was saying but to him, it seemed that she could have feelings for him. He so desperately wanted that to be true.

"Yes," he said, smiling. His whole face lit up. Cristina smiled back at him. She sometimes wished he could see her smile. That was going to change soon once he got his operation, she thought. Still, she was filled with a bit of trepidation. What if he didn't like her when he finally saw her? That would be so terrible, she thought.

"So shall we get back to work?" he asked. "Yes," she answered, quietly, as her fears began to cloud her mind.

* * *

In a couple of days, Owen and Cristina finished the book. She downloaded the second half of the book on to a flash drive and had it sent off by special overnight courier to New York, where it would be edited by one of the top editors in the company. She and Owen went into town for dinner to celebrate finishing the book. Logan wanted to come but it would have been too late for him by the time they got back.

The next day, Cristina drove Owen to the hospital, early in the morning for his transplant. She stayed with him, until they took him in for his surgery. He was going to do both eyes at the same time. It was an outpatient procedure done under local anesthesia, so Cristina was going to take home after the surgery.

As they wheeled him out, she said, "Good luck." She then did something that even surprised herself. She leaned over and gave him a kiss on the lips. He was surprised, too but it made him feel loved. As she waited in the room for him to return, she got a call from Phyllis.

"Cristina," Phyllis said. "I have the flash drive in my hand. Thank you for a good job, getting this done within deadline."

"Honestly, it was my pleasure to work with Owen," Cristina said. "Yes, he can be a dear when he is not being bitter," Phyllis said. "I guess this means that you will be back in New York, tomorrow. "

"What?" Cristina said. She thought she would have more time, at least, to see Owen through the surgery and then, recovery. She had told him that she would stay to help him.

"Yes, tomorrow, we're starting to edit the book today and your presence will probably fast-forward the editing process," Phyllis said. "So I expect you to pack up tonight and get on a flight, tomorrow and back to the office." Cristina swallowed. "Um, but...," she said.

"Tomorrow, young lady," Phyllis said. "Give Owen my love." Then, she hung up. Cristina stared at her phone. What was she going to tell Owen?

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate your reviews.**


	11. Chapter 11 Gone

They wheeled back Owen to the room. "Thank you," Cristina said to the attendant. "I will take him out. You don't have to come back." The attendant nodded and left.

"So how was it?" she asked. "Are you groggy?"

"No," he replied. "It was only local anesthesia. Do I look funny?" He was aware that there were patches on his eyes.

"Well, yeah, you do have patches on your eyes but that is to be expected," she said. She touched his face and caressed his cheek. He grabbed her hand and kissed it. "Thanks for doing this for me," he said.

"No problem," Cristina said. She then grabbed the chair and started wheeling him out. "I guess we can see about getting you discharged."

* * *

After they left the hospital and were on their way back home, Owen asked, "Do you think that Logan will be scared because of the patches on my eyes?"

"Well, I did warn him that you were going to look a little bit funny but not to worry about it because it was only for a little bit, while your eyes heal," she said. She looked at him, unsure about what to say next. He knew he expected her to stay while he recovered. She knew that he would be disappointed.

"Um, Owen, there is something I have to tell you," she started. He could sense from the tone of her voice that she was going to say something that he was not going to particularly like. "I have to leave Maine tomorrow and go back to New York."

"What?" he was incredulous. She had promised him to stay while he recovered. Now, she was leaving?!

"While they took you in for the surgery, I got a call from Ms Dolan. She said she had just received the flash drive with the second half of the story and that they were going to start working on it from today. She said that she wanted me to go back to New York to help fast-forward the editing process. I guess it is because I know the work so well," Cristina said, all in one big breath.

Owen was fuming. How dare Phyllis demand that Cristina go back to New York? "Dial her number for me and let me talk to her," he said, the anger was apparent in his voice.

"And why do you want to do that?" she asked, alarmed. She didn't want Owen making waves with her boss.

"I am going to talk to Phyllis and demand that she allow you to stay for a couple more days," he said. He really wanted Cristina to stay forever but he knew that was not possible at the moment.

"No, Owen," she said. "Don't do that. Ms. Dolan is my boss. Technically, this assignment I have with you is over. The book is done and I really don't have any work-related reason to stay here, anymore. I don't want you to fight my battles for me, especially with my boss. So, please, let it rest." Owen was not happy at all. Cristina may not want him to speak to Phyllis but he certainly was going to still do so.

When they got home, Cristina guided Owen back into the house. Logan came running from the kitchen. "You're back. Mommy! Owen?" Logan stared at the patches on Owen's face.

"It's still me, buddy," Owen said. Logan came and hugged Owen's leg. Owen ruffled the boy's curly hair. Joyce came out from the kitchen. "Are you hungry? Or do you want to rest?"

"I am a little tired," Owen said. "I think I will go up to my room. Joyce, will you bring me something light to eat?" Cristina and Owen went up the stairs and to his room, with Logan following behind.

"Okay, I will leave you so you could get some rest," she said, as she and Logan left the room. He took off his jacket and lay on his bed, awaiting Joyce. There was a small knock on the door.

"Come in, Joyce," he said. "I am decent." The housekeeper came in and rested the tray across his knees. "It is just a sandwich and a drink. Will that be all?" she said.

"No," he said. "Get my phone and dial Phyllis Dolan's number for me." Joyce got his phone, looked through the contact numbers for Phyllis and then pressed the dial button before handing it to Owen. He could hear the phone ringing. If she didn't answer the first time, he was determined to ring her back. Fortunately, she answered after four rings. He nodded, so Joyce knew to leave the room.

"Hello, Owen," she said. "How are you? Started reading the book, already. Fantastic work by you and Cristina."

"I am not doing fine, Phyllis. How could you do this?" he said, trying to keep calm. He felt like shouting but that would totally defeat the purpose.

"What are you talking about, Owen?" Phyllis said. "Asking Cristina to go back to New York, tomorrow," he replied, his voice tight with emotion.

"Well, yes, the girl's assignment is completed. She has helped you finish the book," Phyllis replied. "So she has to come back to New York to help with the editing process. "

"Well, I need her at the moment," Owen said. "I just had corneal surgery and she was going to help me with recovery process."

"Corneal transplants?" Phyllis gasped. "Does that mean you will be able to see again? That is awesome news."

"Well, that is the hope, Phyllis," Owen said. "I just had it done this morning. Cristina is vital to my recovery." There was a pause on the other end.

"I was afraid that this was going to happen," she said, with a sigh. "You have become attached to the girl. And what did I hear? Her little boy is living with you, too. That is too much, Owen. You have to let her go. The girl needs to come back to New York. I am sorry."

"So you are not budging on this?" Owen said. He could not believe that Phyllis was going so hard-line on this issue.

"The girl is working on our dime, Owen," she said. "We need her, here. We've started the editing process. But that is not the only thing – there is the artwork for the cover plus we have to set in motion a book tour, starting Thanksgiving." Owen scoffed.

"I know this is not what you want to hear, Owen. Again, I am sorry but we are running a business here," Phyllis said. Owen hung up the phone in disgust. He didn't want to talk to Phyllis anymore. Phyllis could be uncompromising, when she wanted to be. He didn't feel hungry again and set aside his tray. He was very upset.

* * *

Back in her room, Cristina was packing up all of her belongings in her suitcase. She hadn't brought all that much because she knew that she would only be there for three months. The final thing to pack was her pictures. Other than the framed picture of herself and Logan, there was now a new framed picture. It was of her, Owen and Logan on the beach. Joyce had taken the picture of them. In the photo, Owen was lifting Logan up in one arm and he had his other arm around Cristina. She stared at the picture. They looked like they were a family. She wiped away a tear that was rolling down her face. Logan, who was with her, wondered why his mommy was crying.

He went and hugged her. "Don't cry, Mommy," he said. She bent down and picked him up, holding him tightly. "Why are you putting our clothes in the suitcase, Mommy?" he asked.

"That's because you and I are leaving tomorrow. We are going back to New York," she said.

"Leaving? New York?" Logan repeated. He was aware that New York was his other home. "Is Owen coming, too?"

"No, Logan. Owen is not coming with us," she told him. "He has to get better from his eye surgery."

"Then, he will come to New York?" Logan asked, hopefully. Cristina shook her head. "I don't know, Logan. Maybe he will come for a visit." She put him down and started packing Logan's suitcase. His suitcase was filled with clothes and shells. After she finished packing, she called the airline and booked herself and Logan on a very early morning flight. That was all that was available at such short notice. That meant she would have to say goodbye to Owen that night. She lay on her bed with Logan next to her and she started to cry, again. The little boy put his arms around his mother.

* * *

Dinner that night was a very somber affair. Joyce could sense the melancholy in the air. She knew the young lady and her son would be leaving the next day because Cristina had said that she was being called back to her job in New York. Joyce looked at her boss and he was not really eating, as he was just stabbing the food and moving it around his plate. Cristina was not eating, either. Only Logan had his normal appetite, though it probably was because the realization that they were actually leaving for good had not really hit him as yet. Joyce was going to miss Cristina and little Logan, so much. She knew she was not the only one because her boss had become extremely attached to the young woman and her son.

Finally, Owen spoke. "So who is going to take me to my follow-up appointments in Portland?" he asked.

Cristina cleared her throat before she spoke. "I already spoke to Joyce and she said she would drive you to all of your appointments." There was another bout of silence before she spoke, again. "I think Logan and I are going to bed right now. We have an early start in the morning."

She got up and carried their plates to the sink where she washed them and put them to dry. She went back to the table. "I guess this is goodbye for now," she said, quietly. "This has been the best assignment I have ever had in my life. I have enjoyed it here so much and so has Logan. I think you have been a great friend, neither of us will forget." Logan climbed into Owen's lap and gave him a big hug.

"Thank you," Owen said. "This has been really wonderful for me, too. I will miss you, terribly."

"Goodbye, Owen," she said, as she picked up Logan. She kissed Owen softly on the cheek. She began to walk away. Then, she stopped. She turned around and came back to the table. She bent down and kissed him on the lips. He desperately kissed her back. He could feel a tear drop from her face on to his. Then, she and Logan left. Joyce was overwhelmed at what she had just witnessed. She could barely bear this herself; she could not imagine how Owen and Cristina felt.

* * *

Owen went to bed that night with an extremely heavy heart. The first few hours were restless until he finally fell asleep. He was so tired from the day's events that he slept very soundly. He was awakened by the shrilling sound of the landline on his bedside table. He groaned as he rolled over. He felt for the receiver and grabbed the phone. He said, "Hello."

"Owen, it is me, Phyllis," the person said. Phyllis was the last person he wanted to hear from at this moment.

"Yes, Phyllis, what do you want?" he asked. "You are not my favorite person, right now."

"Oh, Owen," she said. "I may be, after this. I have decided to let Cristina take a couple more days before she can come back to New York. She has my permission to stay."

"What?" Owen said. "I could kiss you now, Phyllis."

"Promises, promises," Phyllis said. "You can let her know. I have been unable to contact her."

"Thank you, Phyllis. Maybe you are not the dragon lady that I thought you were," he said, with a laugh. He hung up the phone. He needed to tell Cristina the news. He grabbed his cane from the side of his bed and made his way out of his bedroom and along the corridor to her bedroom door. He knocked, loudly. "Cristina," he shouted but there was no answer. Maybe she was downstairs. He got down the stairs as quickly as he could and made his way to the kitchen.

"Cristina," he said her name again. "It's only me here," Joyce said. "She and Logan left hours, ago."

"What?" Owen said. "She left." He could barely believe this.

"Yes, she had a very early flight, this morning," Joyce said. "We had coffee and then, the taxi came and they left."

"This cannot be happening," he said. He sat down at the table and held his head in his hands in despair.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate when you take the time to do so.**


	12. Recovery

Owen raised his head and told Joyce to call Cristina. "Call her, now. Maybe it is not too late. Maybe she is still at the airport in Portland. Call her, now," he urged. Joyce didn't need to be told twice as she quickly dialed Cristina's mobile number. When it went straight to voice mail, she was disappointed. "It is going to voice mail," she told him.

"Leave a message. Tell her that Phyllis said she could stay for a couple more days. Tell her to call us," he said. He knew that Cristina was probably already in the air and her phone was turned off. He was feeling terribly dejected that they were not able to get in contact with her.

* * *

Cristina turned the key in the lock on the front door of her apartment. She had not seen the apartment in three months. In the meantime, she had sublet for a short term, so that the rent could be paid while she was in Maine. "Logan, we're home," she told her son. Logan had slept on the flight from Maine to New York, so he was feeling a little refreshed, even though they had been awake so early. Cristina was a little wary about what she would find in the apartment. She breathed a sigh of relief, when she saw the apartment looked practically the same way as she left it. She was glad the person who had sublet the apartment had been kind enough to clean it, before she left.

"Are you hungry, Logan?" she asked. "Yes," he said. Cristina checked her cupboards. They were as bare as Mother Hubbard's. She sighed. She would have to make a run to the store. "We don't have anything to eat, Logan. I guess we can pick up some bagels on the way to the store."

"Okay," Logan said. He liked bagels, especially with cream cheese.

There was so much to do, Cristina thought. She wondered if Phyllis really expected her to come to work today. She hoped not. She took her phone out of her handbag. It was turned off from since she went on the flight. She turned it on. There were messages, she noted. She would listen to the messages, after she called Maria Santos who was Logan's babysitter. Maria lived in the same apartment building and was a stay at home mom with a two year old girl. Maria usually watched Logan during the day, while Cristina went to work. She dialed Maria's number, which was promptly answered. "Cristina, you're back in New York?" the woman asked.

"Yes, I am back," Cristina said. "I may have to go into work, today, so can I drop off Logan?"

"Yes, Gabby has missed him a lot," Maria said. "How was Maine?"

"It was great," Cristina said. "I will miss it very much."

"How is the fabulous Owen Hunt?" Maria asked. "He always looks so handsome on his books."

"Well, he is," Cristina said. "Very brilliant writer and a wonderful man, too. I wouldn't mind working with him, again."

"Sweet," Maria said. "Just give me a ring and let me know if you're dropping off Logan."

"Yes, thanks, "Cristina said. She hung up the phone. She decided to listen to the messages. The first was Phyllis. There was no mistaking that crisp voice. "Cristina, it's Phyllis Dolan. I have been trying to get on to you but your bloody phone seems to be off. I just wanted to let you know that I have relented and you could take a couple more days in Maine, before you come back to the office. Owen asked for you. You will thank me later. Goodbye." Cristina shook her head and stared at the phone. "Jeez, I get this now?" She then listened to the second message from Joyce. "Cristina, it's Joyce. We got a call from your boss, who said you could stay a few more days in Maine with us. Please call us." Cristina sighed and shook her head, again.

She decided to call Phyllis, first. The crisp voice answered, "Phyllis Dolan speaking. How may I help you?"

"Ms. Dolan, this is Cristina Yang," Cristina said. "Ah, Cristina, you must be very happy to get a few extra days in Maine before you come back to all of the noise and traffic in the city," Phyllis said. "You see I can be a benevolent boss."

"Um, I got the message too late," Cristina said. "I am already back in New York. I got an early flight this morning and I just got the message, when I turned on my phone."

"Oh, what a pity, Owen must be so disappointed. He did call me, yesterday, imploring me to let you stay for another couple of days," Phyllis said. "Oh, dear, he must hate me for calling back so late. " Cristina rolled her eyes.

"Ms. Dolan, since I am back in New York, do you expect me to come in to work today?" she asked. There was a pause on the other end. "Well, if you are feeling up to it, you could come in after lunch."

"That will be fine," Cristina said. That would give her enough time to get to the store and get some food for the apartment. "Goodbye, Ms. Dolan." She then dialed Owen's number. She figured he would be upset. Joyce answered the phone. "Hunt residence. "

"Hi, Joyce," Cristina said. "Cristina!" Joyce shrieked. "We were trying to get on to you to tell you to come back to the house."

"I know but my phone was turned off when I got on the plane. I just turned it back on," Cristina said. "I am sorry that I didn't get the message in time. I would have liked to stay."

"We are, too," Joyce said. "I guess you wish to speak to Mr. Hunt."

"Yes, please," Cristina said. Owen came on the phone, "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied. "I am sorry that I didn't get the message in time. I am back in New York."

"I figured as much," he responded. "So what are you going to do?"

"Well, Phyllis told me to come in to work, this afternoon, since I am already here," Cristina said. Owen cringed on the other end. That was so like Phyllis to take advantage of the situation, he thought. She didn't give Cristina a chance to even consider going back to Maine.

"I wish I was still there," she said, softly. "Yeah, me too," he said.

"Take care of yourself, Owen," she said. "You, too," he replied. They hung up the phone, both feeling very empty. She let out a big breath and turned to Logan, "Let's get something to eat and then we will go to the store. After that, I will drop you off at Maria's apartment for the afternoon. I have to go to work."

"Okay," Logan said. "Will we see Owen again?" He had listened to her conversation to Owen. She ruffled her son's curly hair. "I really hope so, baby," she said. "I hope we do."

* * *

The next few weeks were hectic, as the book was edited. Since Cristina had such a major hand in the book, the editing process turned out to be a breeze. Then, they focused on the artwork for the book, as well as his tour schedule. She contacted Owen several times over the weeks to find out how he was doing and to keep him abreast of everything that was going on with the book. He was glad to hear from her, as he recovered.

In terms of healing after corneal surgery, it was slow going because restoration of sight was gradual. He had his eye shields removed the day after surgery but he still had to wear them when he was in the shower or sleeping. He had to use his eye medications and have regular check-ups, faithfully. As for his vision, it was still blurred and he was getting impatient with the slow healing process. Maybe he had been too optimistic and thought that his eyesight would have been improved to what it once was. But, as the doctor explained, it would never be like what it was. As healing progressed, his sutures would be removed after three months and then, he could get contact lenses to correct any astigmatism or nearsightedness. That should be by a little before Thanksgiving. When healing was complete, he could undergo further laser vision correction surgery to see without glasses or contacts, he was told.

He was impatient for his eyes to heal but the highlight of his days was when Cristina called. He always felt better whenever he spoke to her. She always encouraged him that his eyes were going to get better. Sometimes, he spoke to Logan, who was always a lively conversationalist. Logan had started preschool and he greatly enjoyed the social aspects of the environment. He relayed his many thoughts and opinions about preschool, much to Owen's delight. He missed them very much. He could not wait until his eyes got better and he could finally see what they looked like. He was going to New York just before Thanksgiving to start his book tour. He was fitted with his contact lenses and for the first time since the accident, he felt totally free. He didn't have to rely on other people or walking sticks to help him get around. He was so grateful for this gift.

* * *

He was very excited about his trip to New York. After dropping off his luggage at his apartment, he rushed to Meteor Publishing for a meeting. He was there, supposedly, to see Phyllis but it was really to see Cristina. As soon as he got there, he looked around for her but she was nowhere to be found. He asked the receptionist and was told that Cristina had taken some time off because her mother had taken ill. He sighed. That meant that she was in Westchester.

He had so wanted to see her and to see what she looked like. He had often imagined seeing her for the first time and that it was always a magical moment in his mind. He was dejected when he went to see Phyllis. She noticed his forlorn face, immediately. "What's the matter, Hunt?" she said. "As if I didn't know. She will be back, soon enough. Her mother is ill and she went to look after her."

"I know. It is just that I was so anxious to see her," Owen said, slumping in a chair.

"Wow, you're really attached to that girl. Are you in love with her?" she asked. She knew she was prying but she didn't care. Owen Hunt was like a son to her, even though they had a prickly relationship at times.

"Maybe," Owen said. He paused. "Okay, yes. I am in love with her." It was the first time he actually articulated it.

"Wow, I have known you since you were 22 and I know you got a lot of girlfriends but this is the first time I have heard you say those words," Phyllis said, with a grin. "I never thought the day would come because you are such a loner."

"Well, this is the first time I am actually feeling it," Owen said. "The thing is I don't even know what she looks like. I mean I felt her face, when I was blind and to me, she was beautiful."

"Oh, you won't be disappointed, Owen," Phyllis said. Owen smiled. That was what Joyce had told him, too.

"Well, let us start about the book tour," Phyllis said. "As discussed, your first stop will be the Barnes and Noble on Fifth Avenue and then, the next day at Union Square."

"Okay," Owen said. They got down to the details of his book tour.

The next day, he was at the bookstore. The line for his book-signing was very long. He took photos with a lot of fans, plus he did a couple of interviews with the media. It was getting late in the afternoon. He was glad the line was finally thinning out. His hand was starting to cramp from signing his name, so many times.

He flipped open a book and started signing his name. "You can make that out to Cristina," the person said. He knew that voice and immediately looked up. He could not believe that she was standing right in front of him. "Cristina," he whispered her name. "Cristina," he said, again. "God you're beautiful." He took in her smooth skin, full lips and lovely, dark curls. And yes, she did have expressive eyebrows. His heart was filled with so much love for this woman.

"Well, I guess you don't have to put my name, since you dedicated the book to me. Just sign under the dedication," she said. He grinned and signed his name under the dedication.

"I guess I will just have to purchase this," she said. "Don't you want a photograph with the author?" he asked, cheekily.

"Oh, I think that I will get ample chances to take a photograph with the author," she said, laughing.

"Where's Logan?" he asked. He badly wanted to see the little boy, too.

"Oh, right now, he is in the children's area," Cristina said. "They're reading books to them. So he is a little occupied."

"Can we go out after this is over? Just stay around," he said. "We can go to dinner."

"Okay," Cristina said. "I will just wait with Logan in the children's area. As soon as you're done." He watched her walk away, staring at the curve of her backside in her tight jeans. "Hmm," he said, appreciatively.

"Mr. Hunt, Mr. Hunt," said the next person in line. "What name shall I put?" he said, dazzling the woman with the sweetest smile. His smile matched the joy in his heart.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate when you take the time to do so.**


	13. Chapter 13 Reacquaintance

Owen was so glad when he signed that last autograph. He walked to the children's area at the back of the store. He saw them, immediately. Cristina was in a chair, with Logan on her lap, reading a book to him. He crept up behind them and listened to her, reading the story, with all of the voices for the different characters. He listened for a while, enchanted by her reading. Then she said, "The End." Logan clapped his tiny hands.

"That's a great story," he said. She looked around and saw him there. "Hey," she said, happily. "You're all done?" Logan looked up and stared at Owen, as if he couldn't believe his eyes. He didn't say anything. He just kept staring.

"Yes," he replied with a huge smile. "I am all yours." He meant that in more ways than one. "Where would you like to go?"

"Well, we don't have any reservations," Cristina said. "So we probably could go to one of those casual places. Besides, we have Logan with us and I don't think he can handle a stuffy, fancy place."

"Fine, a casual family dining restaurant," he said. "Okay, let's go." He put out his hand for her to take. They had held hands before, many times but this time, it was different. Their hand-holding had been a necessity, when she used to guide him around. But now, it had a different meaning. It was more of a couple-like gesture. She slipped her much smaller hand into his, while Logan held on to his mother's other hand. She suggested a restaurant that wasn't too far away.

As they were shown to their seats, she remarked that Logan liked it here. "Good place, Logan," Owen said. Logan had been staring at Owen for a long, long time. He badly wanted to ask questions. "Owen," he said. "Can you see me now?" He was very solemn as he said it.

"Yes, Logan, I can see you," Owen said. "What color shirt do I have on?" Logan asked. He wanted to test him. "You have on a red t-shirt with blue jeans and red sneakers." Logan smiled. "You can see, Owen. You can see!" He got up from his chair and did a little dance next to the table before he sat back down again.

Their waiter came and they ordered their food. Owen kept looking at Cristina, marveling at the smoothness of her skin and the lush darkness of her curls. He couldn't wipe the smile off her face. "What's the matter? Do I have something on my face?" she asked. She pulled out a compact from her handbag and looked at her face.

"No, your face is fine," he said. "It is more than fine." She grinned at him and put away her compact. "Owen, I am going to tell you about how I was feeling when you told me that you were going for the surgery to restore your eyesight," she said.

"I am listening. Tell me," he said. He reached over and took her hand in his.

"I was a little bit scared that you weren't going to like what you saw," she said, softly. She felt embarrassed as she said it.

"Never," he said. "I knew you were going to be beautiful. I felt your face, remember. Plus everyone said I wouldn't be disappointed. And you know what? They weren't wrong. I am definitely not disappointed." Cristina blushed. "You're blushing, Cristina Yang. That is very endearing." He took her hand and kissed it. Just then, the waiter brought their food. Logan perked up, immediately. Cristina cut up his meat for him and he started eating, eagerly.

"Hey, he is feeding himself," Owen said. "That is just awesome."

"Yes, since Logan started preschool, he was a bit ashamed that I was still feeding him his meals and he said he wanted to do it himself. It was very messy at first but he was very determined," Cristina said. "Now he can handle himself at the table."

"Yesh," Logan said, his mouth full of food. "Remember, Logan, no talking when your mouth is full," his mother reminded him. Logan nodded and swallowed. "I am a big boy now," he declared. "I feed myself."

"Yes, you are a big boy," Owen said, reaching over and ruffling the boy's curly hair. "Oh, I forgot to ask. How is your mom? I heard she was ill. I had gone into the office, yesterday, hoping to see you and they told me that your mom was ill and you had taken some time to care for her."

"She got a bad case of the flu. She didn't take her flu shot and she came down with it," Cristina said. "She is getting better. I told her that I wanted to come into the city for your book-signing and she said that it was fine. She would be okay."

"I am really glad you came," he said. "Just seeing you made my day that much better."

"Hey, what are you doing for Thanksgiving? It's in a couple of days and I know you have book signings in New York, Connecticut and New Jersey," she said.

"I hadn't really thought about it," he admitted. "Joyce is on vacation, right now. She is visiting family in North Carolina. I thought maybe, I would go to a restaurant or something."

"Nonsense, no restaurant for you," Cristina said. "You are going to spend Thanksgiving with us." She pulled out a piece of paper from her purse and started writing on it. "This is our address in Westchester. It will just be mom, Logan and me but we would love to have you, there. If you want to stay the night at our house and not drive back into the city, we can do that, too. We have lots of room." His eyes lit up. "Thank you," he said. "I would be honored to join you for Thanksgiving." He hadn't had a family Thanksgiving in years, not since his parents died when he was 16. She handed him the piece of paper. He tucked it into his wallet. Though she didn't see it, he wiped away a small tear from the corner of his eye.

* * *

After dinner, he walked her to her car. She was headed back to Westchester that night. Logan was very sleepy and Owen placed him in his car seat and strapped him in.

"Okay, so we will see you in a couple of days, right?" she asked. "Yes, I wouldn't miss it," he said, smiling.

"Well, hope your next set of book-signings go well," she said. "Goodbye." As she turned to go, he held her hand and turned her around. He gently pushed her head up so their lips could meet. This was the first kiss that he had initiated. She had made the first move for their last two kisses. He started with soft kisses and then, he deepened the kiss, as his tongue pushed her lips apart. Their tongues danced with each other's. They were clearly hungry for each other that it was hard to break apart. He forced himself to pull away and stared into her eyes. "I guess I need to let you go." She was breathless as she nodded. "Yeah," she said. "Need to get Logan home." She could hardly get the words out. As she got into the car and strapped herself in, she said, "If you wish, you can come early and help us with the preparations."

"Yeah, I would like that," he said. "I used to help my mom when I was a kid. I haven't done that in a long time. I will be there." He watched as the car disappeared down the street. He got into his own car and drove back to his apartment. He went to bed that night, feeling a lot happier than he had, since Cristina had left Maine.

The next few days were a complete blur for Owen. He had interviews on a couple of morning shows plus he had the book signings in the afternoons. It was just an endless parade of people who needed their copy of the book signed. His hand hurt, every evening but he was always ready for the next day. Phyllis had told him that initial sales of the book were already going well. Pre-orders on Amazon were quite high. He was glad because the book was not only his accomplishment but also Cristina's. That is why he had dedicated the book to her. Without her, the book would have never been completed.

* * *

He woke up early on Thanksgiving morning. He had a leisurely breakfast at a nearby restaurant and then picked up two bouquets of flowers for Cristina and Helen - red roses for Cristina and white lilies for Helen. He hoped that they liked them.

He put in Cristina's address into his GPS and drove to Westchester. He pulled up in front of a house with a brick and stone façade. It had a strong, traditional look about it. "So this is where Cristina grew up," he thought to himself. Picking up the bouquets and his overnight bag from the back seat, he made his way up the path to the front door. He heard some shuffling in the house and it sounded like somebody had fallen down on their way to open the front door. The door opened and Owen found himself looking down at the person in front of him.

"Hey, Logan, happy Thanksgiving," Owen said. "Can I come in?" Logan's mouth was dirty like if he had been eating.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Owen," he said. "Come in." Owen stepped inside. He could detect a delectable smell of food in the house. He gave a cursory look around and noted the family pictures on the fireplace mantel in the living room. There were pictures of Cristina as a child. He made a mental note to take a closer look at those pictures.

"Where's your mommy?" Owen asked. "Kitchen," Logan said. "Come on." He beckoned Owen to follow him.

"Mommy, Grandma, Owen is here," Logan said. Cristina looked up, a little surprised. She knew she told him to come early but not that early. She looked like a mess. She unconsciously put up her hand to check her face and managed to put a dab of flour on her cheek. Owen found it quite irresistible. He grinned.

"Brought you flowers," he said. He handed Helen the lilies and kissed her on her cheek. "Hope you're feeling better, Helen."

"Much," Helen said. Then, he gave Cristina the red roses, wiped the flour from her cheek and then gave a soft kiss on the lips. Helen was taken aback a bit. She hadn't known that Cristina's relationship with Owen had progressed to a romantic one. "I guess I will take these flowers and put them in water. The lilies will be perfect for the centerpiece for the table," Helen said, leaving Owen and Cristina alone, as she grabbed Logan's hand to lead him out of the room.

"Hey," Owen said. "Missed you. A lot."

"Gosh, I look like a mess," she said. "You should have given me fair warning. I would have managed to put a brush through my hair."

"Nah, you're beautiful just the way you are," he said, giving her another soft kiss. "Would you show me to my room?" She nodded. He followed her up the stairs to a bedroom at the far end. "This is it," she said. "Our guest room. You have your own bath, too." He sat on the bed and pulled her towards him, so he could kiss her. Their kissing became more fervent and frantic, so he fell back on to the bed with her on top of him. He pulled himself further into the bed, so they could get more comfortable. He rolled her over, so he was on top. They were so engrossed in making out, that they didn't notice the small person on the side of the bed, watching them. Cristina briefly opened her eyes to notice her son looking at her. She didn't know how long he was standing there.

"Oh, my God, Owen, stop, we have company," she said. "Um, hi Logan," Owen said, sheepishly.

"Grandma says if you're done showing Owen the room, you can come help her," Logan said. It didn't seem to worry him that Owen was on top of his mother.

"Okay, Logan. We will be right there," Cristina said, throwing Owen off of her. As Logan left the room, they both burst out laughing. "Seriously, I need to teach that boy about knocking before entering. Let's go help Mom," she said, getting up. She pulled him up from the bed. They wrapped their arms around each other and headed down the stairs.

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**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. Thanks for taking the time to do so.**


	14. Chapter 14 Thanksgiving

**A/N Some mature content.**

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It was a rather busy day in the Yang kitchen. Cristina and Owen did all of the prep work, while Helen did the actual cooking. Helen carped all of the time but Cristina and Owen did not actually hear her complaints because they were too busy giggling at each other. Logan sat quietly at the kitchen table, sipping a soda, while painting in his coloring books. Helen observed Cristina and Owen and wondered how and when the relationship turned from a professional one to a romantic one. She was a little worried because Owen was a world-famous author while her daughter was a nobody. Well, she wasn't a nobody to the people around her, Helen corrected herself, but she was not a celebrity or famous or anything like that. What would a man like Owen Hunt see in a girl like her daughter?

When it was time for dinner, everyone freshened up and changed into dressier clothing. Owen wore a jacket, sans the tie. Cristina wore a cranberry-colored dress, while her mother donned a chocolate brown dress. Logan was all dressed up in a tiny, long-sleeved shirt and pants.

"My, don't we all look fabulous," Helen said. "We should take a picture before dinner." They set up the camera and they all posed in front of the fireplace. Owen had lifted Logan up in one arm, with his other arm around Cristina, who held her mother's hand. "Cheeeeeeeese," Logan screamed, as the camera flashed. Helen went and took a look at the picture. "It is verrrry nice. I think I will have it framed and put it up on the mantel." Owen was touched when Helen made that suggestion. He was actually going to make it on the picture display on the fireplace. He turned around and examined the pictures. The pictures were of the Yang family at various stages in Cristina's life – as a baby, as a girl, as a teenager and as a young woman with a baby of her own. Cristina's dad, too, was in the pictures. He had a kindly, wise visage and always seemed to have this same peaceful expression in all of the pictures. Cristina was clearly a daddy's girl as she clung to him in all of the pictures. He realized that Cristina must have suffered tremendously, when her dad died. There was also another person in one of the pictures. He knew exactly who the person was. It was Marcus, Logan's dad. While he did have golden brown hair like Logan, his hair was wavy not curly like Logan's. It was from his mother that Logan had inherited his curly locks.

"What are you doing?" Cristina asked, as she sneaked up behind him. "Oh, I am just watching your pictures, here," he said. "You were a very cute little girl."

"Ah, yes, I was and you know what. I still am," she chortled. He turned around and took her in his arms. "Yes, you are. You are still a cute girl." He kissed her on the nose.

"Come on, let's go eat," she said. "Mom and Logan are already at the table. Let us go enjoy the fruits of our labor." There was no one to sit at the head or the foot at the table. Helen and Logan sat on one side, while Cristina and Owen sat on the other side.

"Okay, would you like to do a prayer for Thanksgiving?" Helen asked. Owen was really caught off-guard. It was a long time since he actually prayed. The last time he prayed was when his parents died in the plane crash. He had prayed that they would have been among the survivors but when they weren't, he didn't have much use for prayers, anymore. Everyone looked at him, expectantly. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to say but he nodded. They all joined hands.

"Bless us, oh God, for this day, as we share it with the people we love. I have much to be thankful for this year. It may not have started off well but I am grateful for bringing Cristina, Logan and Helen into my life. These are the people with whom I share this meal. Please bless us all and this food in which we are about to partake. Amen."

"That was a very nice prayer, Owen," Helen said. "So let's dig in." It was an hour of good food, loud laughter and great conversation. When it was over, Helen and Owen cleaned up while Cristina went upstairs with Logan to put him in bed.

"Owen, it has been wonderful having you here for Thanksgiving," Helen said. "Thank you for coming. We haven't had an adult male in this house for quite a while."

"It should be me, who should be thanking you," Owen said. "I haven't had a family Thanksgiving dinner, since my parents died when I was 16. This has been a truly terrific time for me and I thank you."

"Well, you know you are welcome for our family get-togethers, if you can fit us into your busy schedule," Helen said. "Owen, I don't mean to pry but I need to ask you about Cristina. She is my daughter and has undergone a lot of trauma, already, in her romantic life. I assume you know about Logan's dad, Marcus, died in an accident. Cristina was devastated after that, especially since Marcus died before Logan was born. So, he was really the only one she has loved. Now I see that things have progressed between my daughter and you."

"Yes, they have," Owen said. "I know you may have some reservations because of who I am. But let me reassure you that I have the best intentions when it comes to Cristina. "

"Do you love her?" Helen asked, pointedly. "I don't want to see my daughter get hurt, after all she has been through."

"Yes, Helen, I love her," Owen said. "But I haven't told her this. Not as yet. It may be too soon to express such emotions. I don't want her to flee."

"Thank you for telling me this, Owen," Helen said. "I can tell you are a good man. If things work out between Cristina and you, then you have my blessing."

"Thanks," Owen said, giving the older woman a light kiss on the cheek. Cristina came into the kitchen, just in time to see Owen giving her mom the kiss on the cheek.

"Hey, hey, mom, are you giving me competition with my boyfriend?" Cristina said. Owen looked surprised as Cristina called him her boyfriend. It felt good to hear her say that. "No, I was just thanking your mom for cooking such a wonderful meal."

"Ah," Cristina said. "She is now your friend for life. Mom loves when people compliment her cooking. She always says that she can't believe she raised someone with such poor culinary skills like me." Everyone laughed. "Do you need any help?"

"We are just finishing up here," Helen said. "Did you get Logan down for the night?"

"Yes," Cristina replied. "He was feeling very tired. All that turkey did him in. I only read half of the story and he was out like a light."

"Well, I guess we're done," Helen said. "I think I am going to do like Logan and retire for the night. I am exhausted. I love Thanksgiving but it really is tiring. Good night." As she left the kitchen, Cristina asked, "Do you want some hot cocoa before you turn in?"

"Sure," he said. He watched her as she made the cocoa. "Watch out, it is hot," she said, handing him a steaming cup. He blew at it first, before he took a sip. It was hot, but creamy and delicious. "Good," he said. "That's what we need for a chilly fall night."

They quietly sipped at their cocoa, staring and smiling at each other. They kept looking at each other, until they were both done. "I guess we should turn in," she said. "Yes," he said. He took her hand and they walked up the stairs. They stopped at her bedroom door and he leaned down and gave her a sweet kiss. She was almost tempted to ask him to stay with her but she changed her mind, knowing that her mother's room was next to hers. He hoped she would ask him to stay but when she didn't, he sighed quietly and went to his room.

He got to his room, took a quick shower and changed into his pajamas. He lay in his bed, thinking about Cristina, who was just two doors away from him. Logan's room was in between Cristina's room and the guest room. Just the thought of her smooth, soft skin was turning him on. He could feel himself hardening. "Stop it, Owen," he said. "You are just driving yourself crazy." Then, he heard it. It sounded like a knock but it was so soft, he wasn't quite sure. Then, he heard it again. Someone was knocking at his door. Could it be…..? He jumped off the bed and ran to open the door. There she stood, wearing a white lacy nightgown. "Do you want some company?" she asked, quietly. He pulled her in and quickly closed the door.

"Do I? Of course I do," he said, as he pulled her into a deep kiss. Their mouths were hungry for each other, as he guided her towards the bed. "I've been wanting to do this for so long," he whispered. "Yeah, me too," she concurred. He stopped and looked at her. "And you said nothing? I have been dying here, wanting you so bad and we could have done this sooner," he said. "You've been denying me this, woman. How could you?" She laughed. Then she stopped herself, got up from the bed and went and locked the door. "I had to do that. I have a little wanderer at night. I can't have him in here, watching us doing the dirty," she said, before throwing herself on the bed, next to him.

Owen chuckled. "Yes, and he was already in here, watching us make out, earlier," he said. "Now let's see about getting these clothes off. I have been waiting for this moment." He pulled off his shirt and slipped off his pjs and boxer briefs. She stared at him, down there. "Okay, you're making me a little self-conscious. I hope you like."

"I like a lot," she said, giggling. "Okay, now let's get this off you. Raise your arms." He pulled off the nightgown over her head to reveal her bare breasts. He leaned down and took her nipples into his mouth, making them harden under his tongue. He wasted no time in slipping off her underwear down her legs. "Now, you're all mine," he said, as he traced his tongue from her breasts right down to the center of her sex. She closed her eyes to enjoy it even more. It had been so long. Other than Marcus, there had only been one other man in her life, who turned out to be a friend with benefits. There was never anything serious with them, so she didn't really consider him as a relationship. She didn't like the feeling she got whenever she had slept with him. It was just so empty. This was different, she knew. This was love. She ran her fingers through his hair, moaning with pleasure. Then, she pulled him up. "Now," she said, staring into his eyes. As he entered her, she gasped, loving the feel of him inside of her. Their bodies were as one, when they climaxed. The release that they both felt was tremendous. They looked deeply into each other's eyes, both realizing that it was a magical moment. She fell asleep in his arms that night.

They awoke the next morning to the sound of someone jiggling the door handle. "Logan," they both said, simultaneously. Logan was persistent in trying to get the door open, as he continued to jiggle the handle. They both quickly put their clothes back on. When they were both decent, Owen opened the door. Logan strode in without a word and then, climbed up on top of the bed, settling in the middle of the bed, next to his mother. Owen got in on the other side of him. Watching the boy cuddle his mother, Owen could not help but smile.

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**A/N Thank you for reading this story. Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate when you take the time to do so.**


	15. Chapter 15 The Christmas party

After Thanksgiving, Owen was off on his book tour, while Cristina returned to work. After the New York area, he was headed out west to a number of cities including LA, San Francisco, Portland, Seattle, Denver, Houston, Dallas and Chicago. Cristina and Owen spoke every night from whatever city he was in, so she didn't feel too alone that he was not there. He was coming back soon because he was going to attend a party thrown by Phyllis. It was a Christmas party for the publishing company's clients, as well as senior management. Cristina was quite excited to attend. Normally, she would not be invited because she was too lowly in the company but because Owen was going, she was going to be his plus-one.

She had already found a glittery red cocktail dress, which she was going to wear metallic shoes. She was so excited. Her fellow colleagues were jealous. They, too, had heard about how fabulous the party was. They made her swear to tell them everything. Owen had flown back into New York, the day before and he had come to the office to meet up with her for lunch. The girls in the office all swooned when they saw him. When they went out to lunch, she told him that he was a big hit among her friends at the office.

"Well, at least I know all the girls in Phyllis' office like me. That's good," he said.

"Oh, they have liked you for a while, now," she said. "They used to talk about you, every time you came to see Phyllis. Of course, you didn't know who I was, back then."

"Well, because of the way your cubicle is placed, I would have never seen you. If I had, I wouldn't have forgotten you," he said, taking her hand into his and kissing it. "Compliments will get you everywhere," she said, with a chuckle.

"Oh, did you get your dress?" he asked. "Yes," she replied, most excitedly. "I got a really gorgeous dress. I hope I make you proud."

"Don't worry about that, you always make me proud," he said.

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The next night, Cristina got all dressed up. She had her hair done at a salon earlier that day. Logan watched his mother in fascination as she put on her make-up. Logan was going to stay with his regular babysitter for the night, while Cristina went out. It was rare that Maria watched Logan at night but she relented because it was such a big night for Cristina.

"There, I am done," Cristina said, as she put on her lipstick. Logan said, "Pretty, mommy,"

"Why, thank you, Logan," Cristina said. "I am very flattered that you think your old mommy is pretty." She picked up her boy and gave him a hug. Their cuddling was interrupted by a knock on the door. She put down Logan and opened the door. It was the first time that Owen had ever come to her Brooklyn apartment. Owen could not help smiling as he saw her. "God, you're gorgeous," he said. "I am the luckiest man at that party, tonight."

"Thank you," she said, blushing a little. "Well, hey Logan," Owen said. "Ready to go to the babysitter?"

"Yup," Logan answered. He was already dressed in his pjs. "I have his bag," Cristina said. "Just going to drop him off now. You can stay here for a bit until I get back. She is just two flights up. Come on, Logan."

Owen closed the door behind them and took a look around. It was clean and neat. It wasn't very luxurious but still, there was a warm and comfortable vibe about it. There were pictures of Cristina and Logan in various spots in the city. There was a picture of Marcus on the fireplace mantel. As he stared at the photo, somehow, he felt a little jealous of him. Owen knew he had no reason to be but he realized that if Marcus had lived, he and Cristina would probably have been married by now. It seemed weird to be grateful that Marcus died, so he and Cristina could be together now.

His thoughts came to a screeching halt when the door opened and Cristina stepped back inside. "Hey, are you ready?" she asked, as she opened a closet and took out her coat.

"Yes," he said. "More than ready. Let's go." He took her arm and they headed downstairs.

Cristina was taken aback by the limo he had hired for the night. She didn't Owen was going to such extravagance. "This is pretty darn awesome," she said, as she settled into the back of the limo. He poured her a glass of wine. "Just something to get you started for the party," he said. "Drink up, neither of us is driving tonight." She took a sip. It was good wine.

The party was being held at a hotel ballroom uptown. The room was very festive since it was the Christmas season. Not only was there a humongous Christmas tree in the center of the room, the room was lit by thousands of tiny lights. Cristina had a lot to tell the girls on Monday.

"Ah, Owen," Phyllis said, as they came through the door. Owen kissed Phyllis on the cheek. Cristina wasn't sure what to do. After all, this was her boss, so she put out her hand. "Nonsense, child," Phyllis said, as she gave her young employee a kiss on the cheek. "There are lots to drink and eat, so help yourself, dears. Anyway, gotta go. I have to mingle. Lovely to see you both." She rushed off in a cloud of silver sequins and satin.

A waiter passed and Owen took two flute glasses from him. "One thing about Phyllis – she may be a pain but she never skimps, when it comes to her annual Christmas party," he said. "Do you want to grab something to eat?" There were food stations all over the ballroom with different kinds of food. Cristina was determined to test them all.

"Okay," she said. "I will grab a plate for you, too." She headed off to the first station and picked up two small plates. She was waiting in line when she heard a familiar voice behind her. "Why, hello there, sweet thing. I have not seen you in ages." She turned around, immediately. "Jeremy!" she said. "What are you doing here?" Jeremy was not a person she would like to see at this moment. She looked at Owen to see if he was looking in her direction. He was looking directly at her. She groaned because Jeremy was her friend with benefits.

"Oh, the same thing as you, I guess. I am my boss' plus-one. Her husband couldn't make it, so I was forced to come along," he said. Jeremy worked in the finance department of the company. His boss was the head of finance. Jeremy's lips brushed her cheek and while he was at it, he took a friendly squeeze of her butt. "Stop that, Jeremy, please," she said.

"Oh, good grief, girl. It has been so long since we've hooked up. It's been like more than seven months," he said. "First you disappear to Maine to work for that blind author and then when you come back, you have been avoiding me like the plague."

"Well, things have changed in my life," she said. "I am with someone now. I am in a relationship." Jeremy chortled. "Who? I think I would have heard if you were dating someone in the company."

"It is not someone in the company. I am dating Owen Hunt," she said, firmly.

"The blind author?" Jeremy said. "He can't even see what a hottie you are." Cristina scoffed at Jeremy's comment. "He is no longer blind. He got corneal transplants. Not that it would matter, anyhow, I would have been with him if he was still blind," she said. "He is just a wonderful person."

"Yeah, and a multi-millionaire, too," Jeremy added. "Well, okay, girl. If that is what you want. But you know, I am always open for a romp in my bed." Cristina shook her head. "Not interested, Jeremy. Never again." She filled her plates and quickly left. She walked swiftly back to where Owen was standing.

"Who is that guy?" he asked. "Um, his name is Jeremy. He works in the finance department at our company," she said, taking a bite.

"He seemed very familiar with you," Owen said. "Don't think that I missed how he squeezed your cheek and I am not talking about the one on your face." He felt mad. He didn't want to be mad but he was. He didn't appreciate some guy taking liberties with Cristina's body.

"It was just some guy I used to kinda date," she said. Actually, they didn't really date. They just sometimes had a few sexual entanglements with each other.

"Hmm, I thought that you told me that there wasn't anyone after Marcus," he said. "He seemed very familiar with your body."

"He wasn't a real relationship, if that is what you're asking," she said. She didn't want to go into the whole "friends with benefits" explanation. Owen gave her a questioning look. He didn't quite buy what she was saying. They were going to have to talk about this, later. "We'll talk," he said. Cristina knew the whole Jeremy conversation was definitely not over. This night was not going the way that she had planned.

The mood between them was not particularly cheerful after that. Through all of the eating and the drinking, he did introduce her to some of his fellow authors. At least the conversation was good, Cristina thought. She found that Owen was a little distant after the Jeremy incident. She excused herself and went to the ladies' room. She stared at herself in the mirror, powdered her nose and put on fresh lipstick. She took a deep breath when she walked out of the bathroom and gazed in the direction of her boyfriend.

Owen was talking to a woman. It took her a minute to realize that it was Tamsin, Owen's ex-girlfriend, the one who had caused such a ruckus when she visited them at the house in Maine. She remembered how Tamsin had thrown her coat on her head and how badly she had treated Joyce.

"So this is the greatest news that you can see again, Owen," Tamsin said. "I didn't think that you would have been at this party." She massaged his arm, as she spoke to him.

"Well, yes, here I am. Who did you come with?" he asked. The only way that Tamsin would be at a literary party is because someone had brought her. "Paul Telfer," she said. Owen knew who Telfer was. He was a popular sci-fi author.

"So who are you here with?" she asked. "My girlfriend," Owen answered. "She went off to the powder room."

"Do I know her?" Tamsin demanded to know. "I think you do," Owen said. That was all he said because he knew it would drive Tamsin crazy.

"Who?" she demanded, again. Then, Cristina appeared at Owen's side. "I am back." Owen put his arm around Cristina and pulled her close. "You remember Cristina, right?" he said.

"You!" Tamsin shrieked. She remembered the small Asian girl at Owen's house. "Yes, me," Cristina responded. "Nice to see you again, Tamsin."

"I can't believe this," Tamsin said, as she stalked off. Owen laughed. That certainly lightened his mood, Cristina thought.

"That was just great," Owen said. "I don't remember why I even dated that girl." He kissed Cristina on the forehead. "Do you want to head home?"

"Yes," she said. They got their coats and headed back to the limo. "My apartment, Laurence," he told the chauffeur. The chauffeur nodded and drove to Owen's apartment. This was the first time that Cristina had gone to Owen's apartment. His apartment was in a magnificent building on Central Park West. When he opened the door to his apartment, she gasped at the view of Central Park. "This is gorgeous," she said, rushing to the large windows. "Yeah, one of the reasons I got this apartment. You know how I am about beautiful views."

His apartment was amazing, Cristina had to admit, as she looked around at the designer furniture in the living room and the sleek cupboards in his kitchen. "The apartment is fabulous. The open plan makes it even larger," she said.

"Thank you," he said. "Do you want anything to drink?" She shook her head. "You said you wanted to talk about Jeremy. Let's talk about it," she said.

"Jeremy? So that is his name," Owen said. "I was mad, earlier but not so much, now. The reason I was mad is that I didn't like the way he was touching you."

"Well, Jeremy and I have an interesting history," she said. "But we didn't really have a relationship."

"So tell me about it," he said. She continued, "He and I just each other at the office. We were put on a project, together. I was over at his place, working on the project, one weekend. Things just happened and we slept together. Then, we slept together other times, too. I wasn't dating anybody and he wasn't dating anybody and we were both lonely. So it was like getting an itch scratched. We were friends with benefits with no real commitment to each other. I mean we weren't going to the movies or having dinner or doing date-like things. All we did was have sex. So to me, it wasn't and never was a real relationship. Does that satisfy you?"

"Yes, it happened before you met me. Did you set him straight?" he asked. "I don't want any man touching you the way he did, tonight."

"Yeah, I told him that you and I were together," she told him. "You and me – now that is a real relationship." He came to her and took her in his arms, as they stared out at Central Park.

"I am glad you told me," he said. "By the way, did you see Tamsin's face tonight? She looked like she was ready to explode. That was one for the books." They both guffawed loudly.

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**A/N Please leave your comments. Thanks for being kind enough to leave your reviews.  
**


	16. Chapter 16 The Holidays

It was a quiet Christmas up in Maine. Helen, Cristina and Logan joined Owen up at his house for the Christmas season. It was too cold to go out on the beach, much to the chagrin of Logan. He thought that it was always going to be sunny at the beach. Cristina explained the seasons changed at the beach, too. Sometimes, he and Cristina would stare out of the window, watching the snow fall. They built snowmen instead of sandcastles.

Owen was really elated that they were spending Christmas with him. His Christmases were usually quite quiet. Sometimes, he would spend it in New York and just do the whole social scene, attending parties and the like. But other times, he would just go back to Maine and spend it in solitude. Joyce had come back from her holidays to spend it with them. She had missed the presence of Cristina and Logan in the house. It had been several months since they left near the end of August. It was also good that Helen was there. The two older ladies had found that they enjoyed much of the same things, the last time that Helen had visited in the summer. Together, they were planning the Christmas day meals. They loved nothing better. Cristina was actually quite glad that her mother had found a friend to share her similar interests. Cristina and her mother didn't have much in common, when it came to interests and hobbies.

In terms of sleeping arrangements, Cristina now shared Owen's bedroom, while Logan slept in the bedroom that was Cristina's. Even though he had his own room, that didn't stop Logan from coming into their room, every morning to cuddle a bit before breakfast. Owen actually loved that very much, with the three of them lying together in the bed. It seemed like they were a family.

Christmas Day was totally different. Logan rushed into their room to wake them up. He climbed on to the bed and sat on Owen's chest. "Get up, Owen." Then he went to his mother and shook her. Both Owen and Cristina pretended to be still asleep, as the little boy tried in vain to wake them up. He then resorted to jumping up and down in the middle of the bed to shake them awake. "Get up!" he shrieked. "Let's go see what Santa brought for me, last night." The night before, Logan had expressed the great fear that Santa would not have known that he was staying in Maine and not in New York.

Owen assured him that Santa knew that he was on holiday in Maine and would know to bring his presents there for him. "Are you sure?" Logan had asked with a worried look. He didn't want to miss out on any presents that Santa may have had for him.

"I am positive," Owen said. "When I mailed him your letter, I added a note that you were going to be here in Maine." Earlier in December, Logan had dictated to Owen everything on his Christmas wish list and together, they composed a letter to Santa. Logan wanted to sign his name, too. Owen held Logan's hand as the little boy held the pencil to write out his name. He was so proud that he actually wrote his name. Logan's fears were alleviated that Santa would find him. If Owen said so, then it had to be so.

Now today was Christmas and Owen and his mommy were not getting up. He was getting so anxious. Owen opened one eye and nonchalantly said, "Oh, hey Logan, what's up?"

"You have to get up! It is Christmas morning," Logan yelled. His mother opened her eyes and stretched, languidly. Logan was starting to turn red in the face. "Okay, okay, baby," Cristina said, as she got up and found her slippers. "Logan is not going to allow us to sleep in, Owen." Owen also got up and smiled at Logan. It was so much fun, getting him all worked up. He found his slippers and together, they all got down the stairs. Logan ran down the stairs, followed by Owen and Cristina, who were holding hands. As they got downstairs, they could smell brewing coffee, emanating from the kitchen.

"Oh, good," Owen said. "Joyce is up. That means breakfast is ready." As if on cue, Joyce appeared in the living room. "I thought you might be able to use these," she said, handing Cristina and Owen a cup of coffee each. "I see Mighty Mouse is down here, already." She observed the young boy attacking the presents under the tree.

"Hey, Logan," Cristina said. "Not all of the presents are yours. Let me take out the ones that are yours." She went under the tree and started making piles, so that each person's presents were all together. It was the only way she could stop Logan from opening all of the presents. Logan, of course, had the largest pile, since everyone bought him two or three presents. He shrieked as he opened each present, but the biggest present was from Owen. It was a huge box, which was even bigger than Logan himself. He was struggling the wrapping paper but Cristina helped him to tear it off. It was the train set that he had so wanted all those months ago in the toy store.

"Mine?!" Logan screamed. He ran to Owen and gave him an enormous hug. "Yes, buddy, yours," Owen said. Logan could barely contain himself as he danced all around the large box.

Cristina looked at Owen, "You didn't have to do that, Owen. That is too much."

"It's okay. I like just seeing him happy," Owen said. "When can we put it up?" Logan said.

"After breakfast," Cristina said. "Then you brush your teeth and then you can put it up. Though I have no idea where you are going to put it."

"The attic," Owen said. "I put up a couple of tables up there for that very purpose. It is going to take up a lot of room, especially, when we have to build the town in the middle. It's a project that Logan and I can work on, until the New Year holiday."

Helen came down the stairs and joined the group. "I heard all of the shrieking, so I guess Logan got something he really wanted."

"Yeah, mom. Merry Christmas," Cristina said, giving her mother a kiss on the cheek. "I put your pile of presents there. So I guess since Logan has opened all of his presents, it is time for the grown-ups." She handed her son his stocking. The stocking stuffers would keep him busy for a while. Owen dug into Cristina's pile of presents and found the gift he had got for her. She opened it and found tickets for a one week Caribbean cruise. "I thought you and I could get some time away together, alone. Logan can stay with his grandmother and you and I could get away from the cold weather and enjoy some warm Caribbean sun."

"Thank you," she said. "I have never been on a cruise."

"I got us an outside cabin with a balcony," he said. "So we can have a view of the ocean. I just want to spend some alone time with you. I love Logan. I really do but sometimes, adults need a little time together without any distractions."

"I understand," she said. "I want some alone time, too. So, let me get your present from me." She went into Owen's pile and pulled out a thin envelope. "An envelope?" he said, lifting one eyebrow. "What is this? A coupon for sexual favors?"

"NO!" she said. "Just read it." With a grin, Owen opened the envelope. There was a small card in it that read, "Go to the laundry room. Your present is there."

"Okay, you have piqued my curiosity," Owen said. "Let's go." He walked to the laundry room, followed by Cristina. Logan, of course, noticed that they were leaving and followed them, too. As soon as Owen got to the door, he heard yelping and scratching. "What's going on here?" he said. As he opened the door, a German shepherd puppy jumped up on his legs.

"Puppy!" Logan yelled from behind them. He started jumping up and down.

"You got me a puppy," Owen said, as he picked up the puppy and examined its paws. "Look how huge these paws are. He is going to be big."

"Yup," Cristina said. "Remember I always said that I imagined you and a dog walking along the beach. Well, here is the dog. Plus when Logan and I are not here, he will keep you company." He knew it was a thoughtful gift but the reason she got it was for him to have a companion. He hated the fact that she and Logan were not going to stay after the holidays. Helen, Cristina and Logan were headed back to New York, on the afternoon of New Year's Day. He snuggled the puppy, then leaned over and gave Cristina a kiss. "Thank you, baby."

The holiday week passed too fast for Owen. He found himself at the airport, saying farewell to his three house guests. He gave Helen a kiss on the cheek and hugged Logan. When it came to Cristina, he held her in his arms and felt that he almost could not let her go. He held her face and kissed her on her mouth, three times.

"Bye," she said. "Bye," he said. "Call me as soon as you get in." She nodded and then took Logan's hand. He watched as they disappeared through the security line.

He drove back to the house and as soon as he got in, the German shepherd puppy came running towards him. He picked him up and sat down on the sofa with the puppy in his lap. "Max," he said. "She's gone. My love is no longer here. What am I going to do? I miss her so much, already." The puppy licked his face.

"I haven't even told her that I love her, Max," he continued. "Maybe it is time that I do. I want her and Logan to stay with me, forever. Do you think I should ask her to get married? So she won't ever have to leave, again." The puppy licked his face, again. "You know what, you are an amazing listener. I think I am going to do just that. As soon as she calls me, I am going to tell her that I love her and that I want to marry her. So we can be a family." The puppy yelped his agreement.

Owen waited for her call. He knew it was a little more than hour of flying time from Portland to New York. He was getting anxious, waiting for her to call. He looked at the time. She should be back in her apartment by now. He called her phone. It went straight to voice mail. "Oh, good grief," he said, aloud. "She hasn't turned on her phone yet from the flight." He left a message for her to call him. He hoped she would turn on her phone, soon.

He waited for a couple more hours but still nothing. He was getting worried, now. He went to the kitchen to get a snack and a cup of coffee. It was there he saw a shell-shocked Joyce sitting at the kitchen table, with tears streaming down her face. He went to her, immediately and rubbed her back. "What's wrong, Joyce? Did something happen to your family?" She looked up at him and shook her head.

"I just heard on the radio that Flight 2242 from Portland to New York went down earlier in bad weather," she said. He knew that was Cristina's plane.

"What? Are you sure you heard right?" he said, his voice breaking.

"Yes," she said. "I am so sorry, Mr. Hunt. Cristina, Logan….." Her voice trailed away.

"Survivors! What about survivors?" he screamed. "Did they say anything about survivors?" She shook her head. "I don't know as yet. They found the plane and are searching through the wreckage," she said.

Owen could not believe that this was happening a second time in his life. He remembered the feeling of dread he had when his parents died in the plane crash, when he was 16. This could not be happening again. He fell to his knees and started to cry. "God!" he screamed. "How can you do this, again?"

* * *

**A/N Please leave your comments and reviews. I do appreciate when you take the time to do so.**


	17. Chapter 17 The Plane Crash

Cristina opened her eyes. She felt it was so hard to breathe, especially it was so cold. It was dark but there seemed to be some movement next to her. "Mommy," the little voice said. It was then she caught herself. "Logan," she said. They were on the plane and then the pilot said something about a crash landing. She had put Logan in the correct crash position, before she did it herself. The last thing she saw when she looked across was her mom's terrified eyes. Then, there was blackness until she finally opened her eyes.

She could see the lights coming closer to them. She had such a pain on her side. It was excruciating but she had to see whether Logan was alright. "Logan," she said, weakly. The little boy answered, "Mommy." He nodded. "I am scared, Mommy." He had a couple of cuts but otherwise, he looked okay. Cristina was relieved.

"Yeah, me too. But we are both going to be brave," Cristina said. She looked on the other side of Logan for her mom. While her mom was still strapped to her seat, there was a tremendous amount of blood, pouring from her head and her face. "Mom," Cristina screamed. But there was no answer. She kept yelling for her mother but it was to no avail. She was then suddenly blinded by the flashlight in her face.

"Miss," the person said. "Are you alright?" Cristina could tell it was an emergency responder from the way he was dressed.

"My side hurts like hell. I think I may have broken a few ribs," she said. "But other than that, I think I am okay."

"What's your name? I am Riley," he said. "Cristina, Cristina Yang," she said. "This is my son, Logan. And the woman on the end is my mother, Helen Yang." Riley looked at Helen and didn't think that she was alive but he still felt for her pulse. He could find none.

"I am sorry, Miss, but your mother is gone," he told her.

"No, no, no," Cristina said. "She cannot be. Mom, Mom." She screamed for her mother. Logan was getting more scared, so he started to cry. He didn't understand why his mommy was screaming like that.

"Cristina, you have to calm down. You have to pull it together for your little boy," Riley said. "So let us get the two of you out of here." The tears were streaming down Cristina's face, as she allowed the man to help her and Logan. She winced with the pain from her ribs. The man picked up Logan and helped her to where the ambulances were. She was checked and they said that it looked like she had a few broken ribs. Logan, on the other hand, was fine for the most part. He had cuts and bruises but he was okay. She was grateful for that. As the ambulance left the scene, all she could think about was her poor mother. She couldn't help herself as she cried in the ambulance. It physically hurt her to cry but she didn't care. Her mother was dead and she was now an orphan. "Oh, what an absurd thought," she said. "My mother just died and all I can think about is that I am now an orphan." She was just like Owen, with no parents. Other than Logan, she had no immediate family, anymore.

When they got to the hospital, she was checked and X-rayed, confirming that she had indeed suffered broken ribs. Logan was also checked and deemed to be fine. They tended to his cuts and bruises and he cried a little because the antiseptic stung, when they were cleaning his cuts. His mom told him he had to be a brave boy because there were so many other people who were much more badly injured than they were. So, he shouldn't give any nurses any more trouble. He held back his tears, even though it hurt.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the beach house, Joyce threw her hands up in the air. "Surely, there is something we can do."

"There must be a hotline for survivors' families," Owen said. On his phone, he found the airline 's website and the hotline number. He rang it, immediately. He got a recorded message that he had to hold on, since all of the representatives were busy. He was not going to hang up, no matter how long it took. He was not going to lose his place in the queue.

Finally, a human voice came on. "Thank heavens, I am enquiring about three people – Cristina Yang, Helen Yang and Logan Cleary."

"May I ask your name, sir, and are you a relative?" the representative said.

"My name is Owen Hunt," he said. "And I am engaged to Cristina Yang. Helen is her mother and Logan is her son." Joyce's eyes opened wide, when he said he was engaged to Cristina. She didn't know that had happened. Owen knew he was lying but he felt that was the only way he could get information.

"Owen Hunt, the author?" the person on the other end asked.

"Yes," Owen said. Maybe his fame would do him some good in this crisis situation.

"Oh, I just love your books and your latest book was fantastic," the representative gushed. "I got it for my boyfriend."

"Thank you," Owen said. "Can you help me with my enquiry? I desperately need to find out about my fiancée."

"Alright, Mr. Hunt," the person said. "Let me look at my computer. Yang…Yang…Yang. Ah, yes, Cristina Yang, she is at St Timothy's Hospital. It is near the crash site."

"Oh, thank God, she is alive, she is alive," Owen said. "Logan Cleary, Helen Yang. What about them?"

"Um, Cristina is the only Yang I see on the list, sir," the representative said. "Maybe they will update the list later with Helen. Or you can enquire at the hospital." Owen sighed. That did not sound good for Helen's chances. "Logan Cleary is definitely here, though, at the same hospital as his mother."

"Thank you, thank you," Owen said, as he hung up the phone. "Joyce, I am leaving immediately. Cristina and Logan are alive."

"What about Helen?" Joyce asked. Owen shook his head. "They didn't have any information on her, right now." They both knew that Helen was not among the survivors. This would be a serious blow to Cristina since she loved her mother so much.

"Congratulations, sir," Joyce said. "About the engagement. Spot of good news amongst all of this tragedy."

"Oh, that, Cristina and I are not engaged," Owen said. "I just told the person that so I could get information."

"Oh," Joyce said. "But," Owen interjected. "That doesn't mean she is not soon going to be my fiancée. I am going to ask Cristina to get married. I love her very much and this plane crash makes me realize that I can no longer wait, anymore. Life is too precious and too short, not to be with the one you love the most."

"Yes, sir," Joyce said. "I agree with you. Poor Helen."

"Yes," Owen said. "Poor Helen. I am hoping for the best but I am anticipating the worst." He packed a carry-on bag with some clothes and toiletries. He didn't know how long he would have to stay there. He just wanted to get Cristina and Logan back home. With a little bit of trepidation, he boarded a flight. His fears were for naught, as he landed safely, rented a car at the airport and drove to the hospital. When he got to the hospital, there were so many camera news crews there. Apparently, they were waiting for a press conference from the hospital authorities about survivors.

He went to the ER and enquired about Cristina and Logan. He found out that the room they were in and immediately went to them. He opened the door and was so relieved to see Cristina and Logan, sleeping on the bed. They both looked banged up but they were alive. For this, he was very grateful. He went to the bed and gently kissed his girlfriend on her forehead. He didn't mean to wake her but her eyes fluttered open. "Owen," she whispered.

"Hey," he said. "How are you feeling?"

"A little painful. I broke a few ribs," she said. "Do you know that Mom's dead?" He nodded, sympathetically. "Yeah, they didn't want to tell me on the phone," he said. "So I figured it was something like that."

She started to cry again. "My mom is gone. Logan is all I have left," she sobbed. "Thank God he is okay and nothing happened to him."

"Don't say that. You have me. You will always have me," Owen said, as he got in the bed to hold her. It was a tight fit with Logan on the other side of her. Logan stirred and lifted up his head. Owen saw all of the bruises on his face, plus he had a few band-aids all over. "Owen," he said.

"Hey, buddy, how are you feeling?" Owen asked him, touching his head. "Hungry," Logan said.

"Okay, let's get you something to eat and let your mom rest," he said. He got up and picked up Logan from the other side of the bed. "When will you be released?" he asked.

"Maybe tomorrow," she said. "Other than my broken ribs, I am okay. I have a few cuts and bruises."

"Well, maybe we can go back to the house in Maine and you can recuperate there," he said. "I will call Phyllis for you and tell her what happened." He disappeared with Logan in tow and went off to find something to eat. As he wandered through the lobby, he could see many people crying. They probably lost someone in the crash. He kissed Logan and hugged him, tightly. He was so grateful that Cristina and Logan were still alive but he was so sad that Helen did not make it. He knew Cristina was devastated. After getting Logan a snack, he went back to the room.

"I can't go to Maine, right now. I have to make sure that Mom gets a proper church service and cremation," Cristina said. "I have to go to Westchester to see about it. I have to see about getting the body released to me." She tried to get up and fell back in pain. "Cristina, you are going to injure yourself further," he warned. "Don't worry. I will find out about everything. Just rest. I don't want anything bad happening to you." He left Logan with Cristina and he went about finding out all he could about getting Helen's body released. Though an autopsy had to be performed, he was told that it would be released as soon as they found out the actual cause of death. The next day, he drove Cristina and Logan to Westchester to recuperate. He hired a nurse to care for them, while he did all of the running around about getting Helen's body released. He also made funeral arrangements since he didn't really want Cristina to be dealing with it.

At the memorial service, Cristina spoke about her mother. She didn't cry but he could see her body shaking, as she delivered a beautiful eulogy for her mother. After the cremation, Helen's ashes were gathered up in an urn and then, scattered in a park near their home, where she liked to go walking. Cristina was still recuperating from her injuries, when she, Owen and Logan went to Maine. She had closed up the house in Westchester and gave up her apartment in Brooklyn. To everyone's surprise, she also quit her job at the publishing company. Phyllis called Owen, immediately and asked him what was wrong with Cristina. All Owen could say was that Cristina needed some time to recover from the plane crash and the death of her mother. Still, he was very worried about her. She had become withdrawn and quiet. The spark in her seemed to have died. He hoped that as her injuries healed, her spirit would return but it didn't. He had wanted Cristina and Logan to come live with him but this was not the way he had imagined. He still had not told her that he loved her. He didn't know if she was ready to hear it. She just seemed so distant, at the moment.

Owen enrolled Logan into a pre-school in the town near where they lived. He settled down, quickly and enjoyed it, immensely. Every morning, Owen and Cristina would take the drive into town to drop him off at pre-school. Then, they would come home and she would go to Logan's bedroom and lock herself in for the day. She never said what she was doing in there. Sometimes, he would knock and she would answer saying that she was okay. She was so secretive about it. He didn't know what to do.

Then, the day came, when it would be a secret no more. He was sitting in his study, reading his newspaper. She strode into the study and dropped a box in front of him. He opened the box and stared at what was inside. It was full of printed pages. "What's this?" he asked.

"My book," she said, her voice strong and true. "I have written my book."

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. Thanks for leaving your reviews. I really do appreciate it.**


	18. Chapter 18 The L word

**A/N Some mature content.**

"Your book? You've written a book! Is that what you have been doing, while you were locked up in Logan's room every day? I was getting so worried. I thought you were grieving and you didn't want me to see it," Owen said, slapping his forehead. "I am so relieved."

"Well, I was grieving but I decided to channel it into something positive. I put all of my angst into this book. It isn't what I usually write but it is more about a mother and daughter relationship. A fictionalized account of my mother and me. We did have a contentious relationship during the latter part of high school and all through college. But things changed when Marcus died and then, Logan was born. She was there for me, all of the way," she said.

"So it must have been very cathartic for you," Owen said, flipping through the pages. "I guess you want me to read this."

"Yes," she said. "I want you to be brutally honest with me. Tell me if it is no good before I go hawk it around to publishers. I want you to tell me whether it would be worth it."

"Yes, I will read it and I promise to give you honest feedback," he said. "Thanks," she said and turned to go.

"Cristina," he said. "Don't go, there is something I want to say to you." She turned back. "Okay, what's up?"

"You have been rather distant, lately and I couldn't tell whether it was the right time to discuss this," he said. She went and sat down. "Okay, Owen, I am all ears. I am in a good place now that I have finished my book. I am sorry that I have been distant but I needed to take the time to process my mother's death and the best way for me to do so was to put my thoughts down on the computer. You have been a strong support for Logan and me and I am thankful that you have been there for us."

"That's what you do for the people you care about," Owen said. He was trying to ease his way into the whole "I love you" conversation. "I was very happy to be here for you and Logan." He was nervous. He didn't know why. Yes, scratch that, he certainly knew why. It would be the first time in his life that he actually told a woman that he loved her. He had dated many women but he had never fallen in love with any of them, so he never had reason to tell any of them the "l" word.

"Well, we care about you, too, Owen," Cristina said. He shook his head. "It's more than that, Cristina. Yes, I do care about you. I, um, also love you," he said. The words sounded weird coming out of his mouth.

"Oh," she said. That was not the reaction he had expected from her. He felt like he had been slapped on the face with a cold fish. Now, he understood why people were wary of saying "I love you". There was always the chance the other person would not reciprocate. He felt embarrassed. There was an awkward silence. He couldn't stand it anymore when he said, "Well, I better get started on reading this." Cristina recognized that he wanted to be left alone, so she quietly left.

She closed the door and started to breathe again. She couldn't believe it. He actually said that he loved her. She was so surprised by his declaration, that all she could say was "oh." What a stupid girl you are, Cristina thought to herself. "You just made a whole mess of things. You know you love him. Why didn't you say something?" she said, aloud to herself, as she headed up to her bedroom. She was tired. Completing the book was really exhausting. She lay on the bed and hugged Owen's pillow. It smelled just like him. She buried her nose in the pillow to savor it. It was such a turn-on, she had to admit. She closed her eyes and enveloped herself with his scent, imagining him next to her.

* * *

Back in his study, Owen could feel his face was burning. He was so embarrassed. He had put his heart out there and she did not say anything. Maybe she didn't feel the same way about him. Maybe it was too early to say these things. After all, they only started really being a couple at Thanksgiving and that was a couple of months ago. Hell, he had wanted to say it to her on New Year's Day, except the crash happened and those plans were put on the back burner. He needed to get his mind on other things, so he started reading Cristina's book. After he read the first few pages, he realized how much she had improved from the first set of writing she had showed him over the summer. She did not indulge too much in the over-flowery, superfluous language that had peppered her previous work. The angst from her mother's death had definitely worked. She was able to articulate what she wanted to say in a stronger voice. It was good reading. Nope, it was great reading. He found himself totally engrossed in it and found himself full of anticipation for the next page. He made notes here and there but mostly, he just read.

In the bedroom, Cristina's eyes fluttered open. She just had an intense sexual fantasy about Owen. She felt so aroused. She wanted him now. She ran down the stairs and into the study, where Owen was still reading her book. "Hey," he said. She ran to him, took the paper out of his hand and straddled him, while showering kisses on him. She pushed her tongue into his mouth and he quickly responded, as he wrapped arms around her. It was clear that she wanted some loving and he really didn't mind. He picked her up and placed her on his desk, still kissing, as he slipped off her underwear from underneath her dress. She made quick work of unbuttoning his jeans and stroking him to hardness. He could tell that she wanted him, now and desperately. He looked into her eyes and he entered her. She gasped as he forced her legs further apart, so he could penetrate her even more deeply. When they climaxed, she moaned loudly. The release was amazing, she thought. As their breathing became more normal, she whispered into his ear, "I love you, too."

He pulled back and gazed intently at her. "Why didn't you say that to me earlier when I told you that I loved you? I kinda felt like I was an idiot. I was putting it out there and all you could say was 'oh.' "

"Sorry about that," she said. "I was just kinda shocked."

"Are you sure that you were not just saying that because you got mind-blowing sex? I don't want that 'I love you' to be just a post-coital reaction. It happens, you know," he said. "People say these things after sex."

"No," she reassured him. "I really do love you and it wasn't because of the sex, as superb as it was." He kissed her on her nose. "Good," he said. "I was just making sure." As they fixed their clothes, she noticed that he had read quite a bit of her book.

"So?" she asked. "What do you think?" Her voice shook as she said it. She felt a bit anxious about what he thought.

"Well, it has been going quite well, actually," he said. "I have made some notes but I am enjoying it. You and your mom really had some major fights."

"Yes," she said. "I am putting it all out there. From the outside, our façade was perfect but we were like two combatants behind closed doors. We never aired our dirty laundry in public and here I am, doing it right now. My mother would be horrified, if she knew."

"I can't wait to read the rest," he said. "So I will leave you to it," Cristina said. "I am going to freshen up a bit and then, go pick up Logan at school." She gave him a kiss on the lips and left the room. He picked up the page that he was reading before he was interrupted by the woman he loved. "She loves me," he said. "She loves me." It was the greatest feeling in the world.

* * *

He was happy, truly happy, as he watched Cristina and Logan chatter away across from him at the dinner table. It had been such a good day. He was almost through reading Cristina's book. It was full of twists and turns but at the heart of it was the relationship between the mother and the daughter. It was a tremendous effort, he thought. He was ecstatic about the book but mainly about the fact that they had both finally said that they loved each other. It was the first step in paving the way to a future together. So they could be a family.

"So Cristina, I thought we could go away for Easter," he said. "Um, sorry, Owen, I was thinking of going back to New York," she replied. "Besides, we have imposed on you long enough. Logan and I need to be able to stand on our own two feet."

"What? Why?" he asked, alarmed. What was she talking about?

"I have to do something about mom's house," she said. "It is still generating bills and I need to get a job so I can pay them. So I think Logan and I will be going back to New York. I will probably have to commute into the city."

Owen's idyllic fantasy of life together as a family suddenly faded in his mind. She was actually talking about moving out.

"You're going to move out?" he said in an incredulous tone.

"Yes," she said. "We can't stay here forever. It's not like I can get a job out here to pay the bills and maintenance of the house. So back to New York we go."

Owen's whole day had turned from great to bad.

* * *

It was the Easter weekend. Cristina and Logan were both packed and waiting for the taxi to come pick them up to take them to the airport. Owen had offered to take them but she declined, saying that he wouldn't have to make the long trip back home if they took a taxi.

He had been a little down, since she told him that they were going to move back to New York. He understood why she was going but it didn't make it any easier. When the taxi came, she kissed him and told him that she would call him as soon as they got home. He remembered the last time what had happened when she and Logan got on a plane. He banished the horrid thoughts out of his mind. Plane crashes were rare, he knew, but it didn't help that his life had been altered by two such crashes.

In the taxi, Cristina's hands shook. The reason why she had asked Owen not to take her to the airport was that she didn't want him to see her as she tried to get on the plane. She was terrified about it but she knew she would eventually have to get on a plane some time in her life. Since the crash, she had not been on a plane. Owen had driven five and a half hours from Westchester to Maine, when he brought them to stay at his house.

She got to the airport and wanted a drink but she couldn't take a three year old into a bar. Her heart was beating faster. She checked them in on the terminal. They didn't have much luggage, just two carry-ons. She might as well just go to the gate and get past the security line, she thought. She and Logan stood there watching the security line. People kept passing them and getting into the line.

"Mommy?" Logan enquired. "Are we going?"

"Yes, Logan, just now," she said. She could feel her body tensing up. Her breath began getting short. She was starting to cold-sweat. She could not be having an anxiety attack now. Not now. She screamed inwardly.

"Are you getting in the line or not?" she heard a man's voice say.

"You can go ahead," she found herself saying. "No, I can't," the man said. "I am going with you." It was then the recognition hit her. "Owen?" She turned around, swiftly. Logan was up in Owen's arms. Owen chuckled.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. "I thought I could go down to New York, too," he said. "After all, I am going to help you get your book published."

"You are?" she said. "Yes," he said. "I have lots of contacts, much more than you. I will definitely help you get your foot in the door."

"You will?" she asked. "So this is rather sudden – you coming with us."

"Well, yes, as soon as you left, I realized I wanted us to be together. So I went online and bought a ticket, called a taxi and here I am," he said. He took her hand into his. "I just want us to be together. So, are you ready?"

She took a deep breath and they joined the security line. Somehow, his presence made everything alright. He made her feel safe.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate when you take the time to leave your reviews.**


	19. Chapter 19 A new writing talent

On the flight to New York, Owen suggested that it might be a better idea if they lived in Manhattan, instead of them living in Westchester. If they lived in his apartment, it might be better for her commute, if she found a job. Also, it would be easier for him to shop around her manuscript. She agreed that it was a better idea for them to live in Manhattan. She also said that she would try and get Logan back into the preschool that he used to attend. She was relieved that Logan easily adjusted well to his surroundings so it would not be too much of a strain on him.

Cristina dug into her savings and paid off all of the bills of the Westchester home. She eagerly started looking for jobs, while Owen used his contacts to get Cristina's book on to the desk of some of the top editors in the publishing world.

He decided to check out other publishing houses, other than Meteor. He wanted her to succeed elsewhere. He knew he would try Phoenix, a rival of Meteor. He met with Sondra Jones, who was delighted to welcome him to her office. The first words out of her mouths were to ask him if he was ready to jump ship and leave Meteor.

This was when he turned on the full charm assault on Ms. Jones. He said that while he was not thinking of moving at this time, he had made an exciting discovery and wanted to share it with her. There was a young, talented author, whose work he had found to be quite wonderful.

"Are you pitching me an unsolicited manuscript, Owen?" Sondra asked.

"Yes, I am, Sondra," Owen said, giving her the most dazzling smile he could muster. The woman blushed. "But I wouldn't be doing this, if I didn't believe in the author and her work. Take a read. Let me know what you think."

"Okay, Owen, only for you. If you believe in it, I am pretty sure it is going to be good," she said. They shook hands and Owen gave her a slight kiss on the cheek.

His next target was Juniper Lewis at Titan Publishing. Juniper asked him the very same question that Sondra had asked when he came to see her. "Are you ready to leave that dragon, Phyllis Dolan and come join us here at Titan?" she said, shaking his hand.

Owen had to chuckle at how she described Phyllis. Phyllis truly had a fearsome reputation among her peers. "No, no. I have a wonderful arrangement at Meteor."

"Just tell us and we can top whatever they have offered you," Juniper said, with a steely grin.

"I am very flattered, Juniper, but this is not why I am here. I want to introduce you to the work of an amazing young novelist," he said. He handed over a copy of Cristina's manuscript. "Cristina Yang," Juniper said. "Haven't heard of her before."

"Well, that is why I am bringing her to your attention," Owen said. "Give it a shot. You won't be disappointed."

"Okay, Owen," Juniper said. "I will have someone take a read. If it is as good as you say, then maybe, it will be worth our while."

As he left Juniper's office, Owen had a lightness in his step. He had a good feeling about this. He headed back home where he found himself alone. Cristina had gone on a job interview and Logan was at pre-school. He made himself a screwdriver, kicked off his shoes and stared at his view of Central Park. It was very relaxing, he thought. He closed his eyes and fell asleep on his chair.

He didn't know how long he was asleep when he was awakened by the persistent buzzing of his phone. He didn't answer it quickly enough, so it stopped ringing. He rubbed his eyes and stared at his missed call. It was Phyllis. He was going to call her when the phone started buzzing again. It was Phyllis, again.

"Owen Hunt," he heard Phyllis shriek on the other end. "Are you planning to leave us?"

"What?" Owen said. "No, whatever gave you that idea?" He got up and stretched, hoping that would wake him up, fully."

"Because you were spotted not only at Phoenix but also Titan, today. Not only that, you had appointments with Sondra Jones and Juniper Lewis. Did those scoundrels offer you more money? Whatever it is, we can top them," Phyllis said. "We are not going to lose one of our best assets. Where is your loyalty, Hunt? We signed you up when you were 22 years old and this is how you repay us, now that you are one of the best-selling authors on the planet."

"Hmmm, Phyllis, you have spies everywhere," Owen said, with a laugh. "No, I am not planning to leave Meteor. I think we have a very comfortable and mutually beneficial arrangement."

"Then, what were you doing at those snakes' offices?" Phyllis pressed on. Owen could not help laughing at how Phyllis described Sondra and Juniper. Clearly, there was no love lost between any of these ladies.

"Well, if you must know, I wanted to introduce them to a new author," Owen said.

"What? A new author and you didn't come to me," Phyllis spluttered on the other end.

"Well," Owen responded. "I wanted this young author to get a fair assessment of her work with people who didn't know her." There was a pause as Phyllis tried to figure out whom it was. It could be only one person, she concluded. The one person who was most important to Owen and the only person he would go to all of this trouble for - Cristina.

"So Cristina has written a book?" Phyllis said.

"Yes," Owen said. Phyllis scoffed as she remarked, "I can't believe that you wouldn't come to me, first, instead of going to Juniper and Sondra."

"They didn't know her and would not have any pre-conceived notions about her," Owen said, trying to defend his choices to this woman who was like a surrogate mother to him, even though she had an iron lady presence about her.

"What makes you think that I won't be fair to the girl, Owen Hunt? I am appalled that you would think so," Phyllis said.

"You know her as a young editorial assistant, Phyllis. You might be quick to dismiss it because of her lowly position in the company," Owen replied.

"If the girl is talented, I will say the girl is talented. I have a fondness of the girl. She was a very good editorial assistant. If it weren't for her, your last book would not have been finished," Phyllis said. "You know I am always on the lookout for fresh talent that can bring money for this company. So be a good boy and drop off a copy of the manuscript to my offices, please. I can't allow my competitors to get ahead of me."

"I will drop it off tomorrow," he said. "No, you will not," Phyllis said. "You will drop it off, right now. I mean it, son." Owen groaned but he got up and put his shoes back on. "I will see you in a bit," he said before he hung up.

* * *

It was two weeks before they heard back from any of the companies. The first was Juniper, who wanted to meet Cristina. Half an hour later, Sondra called and asked for the same thing. It was Phyllis who called last.

When he answered, Phyllis said, "Where is she?"

"Oh, she got a job at a magazine and is at work, so she is quite busy," Owen said. "But I am here to take all of her messages."

"We are interested," Phyllis said. "Very interested."

"Well, you are not the only one, Phyllis. You are kinda late," Owen said, chuckling. "In fact, Juniper and Sondra have already called and would like to meet with Cristina."

"What, those witches have called, already. If they think that they are going to steal her right from under my nose, they must be out of their minds," Phyllis said. "I groomed that girl. She was with me for more than two years. Who knew that she had such talent?"

Owen could not help but chortle. "Maybe if you paid attention to her a little more and not treat her like a plebe, then you could have been in the driver's seat for this deal."

"Aaargh!" Phyllis said. "At least, what you can do for me, is to give me first shot with her. You and I go back a long way and I think I deserve some consideration. I was the one who gave you your book deal. I was the one, who took a chance on a young, unknown author. I am applying emotional blackmail here and I don't care. You owe me, Owen Hunt. You are a millionaire because of me."

"Alright, alright, Phyllis, you made your point. I will bring her by after work this afternoon. I trust you will stay in to speak to her," he said.

"Certainly," Phyllis said. "I will expect you at 6."

* * *

Over the next few days, Cristina had meetings with all three publishing companies. She heard money figures that she had never imagined she would hear in her lifetime. If she was successful, she realized, she would not have to work full-time, again. After much thought and discussion with Owen, she finally made a decision. She decided to stick with Meteor, not only because they decided to top any offer of the other two companies, but also because she had a great loyalty to Phyllis, who gave her the first job of her life.

They celebrated the night that she signed the contract with a dinner at a really fancy restaurant. Logan was home with a babysitter, while Cristina and Owen wined and dined each other. Owen rubbed his eye. It was smarting, really stinging. He had been noticing twinges of pain throughout the day. "What's the matter with your eye?" Cristina asked.

"I don't know. Maybe I got something under the contact lens," he said. "It has been bothering me." He didn't want to spoil their celebration because it was such an important moment for her.

"Let me take a closer look," she said. "Your eye is very red. I think we should go to the doctor, tonight to check it out."

"I am sure it is just an irritation," he said. "It will be fine. We will get an appointment, tomorrow. Let's just forget about it for now. We are here to celebrate you and your book deal. Let's have some more champagne." He smiled at her, even though his eye was hurting him. She gave him a doubtful look. She was worried about his eye. He tried to brush it off but the pain was not going away. She cut short their dinner and took him to the emergency room.

The ER doctor took one look and asked if he was a corneal transplant patient. Owen nodded. The doctor sighed. "I am not really sure so I am going to call an ophthalmologist to take a look."

"What's wrong?" Cristina said, alarmed. "I don't want to say because I am not sure. Let's see what the eye doctor says," the ER doctor said. "Just hang on. He should be here in a bit."

The eye doctor came about 15 minutes later. He read the chart and examined the irritated eye. "Hmmm," he said. That was not very reassuring, Owen thought.

"Doctor?" Owen asked, anxiously.

"I am sorry, Mr. Hunt, but I think your eye is rejecting your corneal transplant," the doctor said. Owen's heart sank.

"Does this mean I am going to go blind in my right eye, again?" Owen asked, quietly. Cristina took his hand into hers and squeezed it.

* * *

**A/N Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate when you do so.**


	20. Chapter 20 Taking a step forward

Owen got a second corneal transplant on his right eye. He felt he had no other choice. He didn't want to go blind in his right eye. He had gotten his sight back and was so determined to keep it. The doctor warned that the chance of rejection was greater with this second corneal transplant. But they were going to do everything they could to prevent this.

When he came home after the second transplant, Logan noted Owen's eye patch only on one eye and made the comment that it made him look like he was a pirate. "That's it, mommy," he said. "My birthday party. We should make it a pirate party with eye patches and swords and everything." Logan's fourth birthday was coming up and while Cristina had secured the venue and the catering, she had yet to come up with a theme. Logan had been insistent that he wanted a dress-up costume party. Cristina was grateful that he came up with his own theme.

"That sounds like a great idea, Logan," Owen said. "I would gladly wear an eye patch for your party." Logan jumped around in glee before running off to watch cartoons on television.

"I am going to tell you upfront that I wasn't the best patient when I did the first transplants," he admitted. "I was crabby and frustrated. Poor Joyce bore the brunt of my bad moods, mainly because you were back in New York, working on my book with Phyllis. I can't promise that I won't have bad moods but I will try and temper them down."

"It's okay," she said. "I understand. Besides, I will be at work, most of the day and then, I will be planning Logan's birthday party the rest of the time. So I will be too busy to let your bad moods get to me. I am so glad that Logan came up with a theme for his party. I guess I have you and your eye patch to thank for that." She gave him a kiss. "It is going to be alright, Owen. We just have to make sure that if there is any sign of rejection, we will have to act fast to stop it."

"Yes, thanks," he said. That was his greatest fear – that the transplant would be rejected, again.

* * *

Owen was right. He did have bad moods but mainly due to the fact that he was frustrated with the slowness of the healing process. He wished he could wave a magic wand and his eye would be whole, once again. Cristina tried to not let his bad moods affect her but sometimes they did. She threw her energy into planning Logan's party. Meanwhile, a lot of work was being done on her book at Meteor. The book was soon to be published. It was moving at a really fast pace because Phyllis thought the book would be perfect for summer reading. It clearly was aimed to a female audience and a lot of people would be reading the book, while taking their summer tans on the beach. Since she was a brand new author, Phyllis thought it would be important for them to market the book, properly. What they needed was some favorable reviews. If the book was well-received by the critics, then Phyllis had planned a whole campaign, whereby Cristina would appear on morning shows as well as book-signings.

In fact, it was during Logan's very loud 4th birthday party that Cristina got word from Phyllis that they will indeed be supporting her book with a PR campaign and she will have her first book-signing at the Fifth Avenue store of Barnes and Noble and her first interview with Good Day New York in the morning. The reviews had come in and they were very favorable. She was so excited that she ran across to Owen, who was supervising a game. Owen was fully dressed in pirate regalia, complete with eyepatch and a fake parrot on his shoulder. He seemed to be having a wonderful time because it was like he was a kid, again.

"Owen, Owen, the reviews are good!" Cristina screamed, happily. She was shouting at him to be heard over the din of yelling children.

"What? I am so happy for you," he said. "So book signings?"

"Yes! And I have an interview with Good Day New York, tomorrow," she screamed, again. "Oh my God, I have to find something to wear."

"Don't worry. You are going to look just fine," he said. "Congratulations, Cristina. Just enjoy the ride."

* * *

New York was not the only signing, as Phyllis also scheduled signings and interviews in Philadelphia, Chicago, Dallas, Los Angeles and San Francisco. In the meantime, it was decided that since Cristina would be working, it might not be best for Logan to travel with her. So Logan was going to be left in Owen's care. As Cristina left to go to the airport, Owen told her that he and Logan would have a wonderful time. She still had a very worried look. The boys were going to be alright without her, he said, trying to reassure her. She kissed them both and headed out of the door.

Later that night, as he put Logan to bed, he went to his bedroom to lie down. He reached over and hugged Cristina's pillow. He could smell the peachy scent of her shampoo. He sighed. He suddenly felt so lonely. It occurred to him that since he had brought Logan and Cristina back to the beach house in Maine with him after the plane crash, they had never been apart. Now she was gone only for a couple of hours and already, he missed her, terribly. He knew she had been very patient with him, while his eye healed. He had taken some of his frustrations out on her but she never snapped back at him. She was so good to him. He could not imagine his life without Cristina and Logan in it. He never wanted them to be apart, again. Maybe, it was time to make their commitment legal, he decided. He had been ready all those months ago but the plane crash had changed that. He was more than ready, now.

* * *

Cristina did not come home for another four weeks. They had added other cities, since the buzz about her book was positive. Though Owen was happy for her, it was terrible for both him and Logan. They called her often but when the calls were over, Logan could not help but cry. Owen found himself comforting Logan but he understood exactly how he felt because he, too, missed Cristina a lot.

When she finally came home, Owen and Logan were so grateful that they hugged her, as soon as she came through the door. "Never go away again, Mommy," Logan said. "I will try," Cristina said. "Um, guys, you know you can let go." Since they didn't let go, the three of them made their way to the couch, where they finally released her.

"How was your trip?" Owen asked. "Fantastic," she told him. "I met so many people. You didn't tell me how much your hands hurt at those book-signings."

"Yeah, they do," he said. "You just wish the line would just end but you can't because you know that people may have driven from a long way away, just to meet you and get your autograph. You are grateful for their support."

"Yeah, it's true. Without them, where would we be?" she said.

"Oh, by the way, Logan and I have a surprise for you," he said. "We're going out to dinner and then we are going to someplace special."

"Yes, yes," Logan shouted. Cristina gave him a fake stern look. "I know you are enthusiastic, Logan but you needn't burst my ear drum. Where are we going?"

"Well, it is a secret," Owen said. He and Logan gave each other a high five. "So this evening, we are going out, miss."

* * *

That evening, everyone got dressed up. Owen was in a black suit, Logan in a charcoal grey suit and Cristina in a red dress. "To quote Billy Crystal, we all look marvelous," he said, laughing. "That we do," Cristina said. "Come on, Logan."

They went to this to expensive restaurant at the top floor of a building. The restaurant had these magnificent views of the city. The waiter nodded at Owen and showed them a table with a view of the Empire State Building. They didn't have to order, because Owen had pre-ordered ahead of time for the three of them. There was wine for Cristina and Owen and sparkling grape juice for Logan. They had a magnificent meal and when it came time for dessert, Owen told Cristina to take a look at the Empire State Building. She gasped as the building lit up with a giant white heart.

"Just like Sleepless in Seattle," she said. "When Meg Ryan sees the heart on the building."

"Yup, that is where I stole the idea from but I decided to do it in white, not red like the movie," he said.

"You did this?" she was amazed. "Just for me?" She put her hands up to her face. Logan stood up in his chair and stared at the heart, totally mesmerized. "Pretty heart, mommy. So pretty."

"Yup, it took some doing but Phyllis helped," Owen said. "That Phyllis, she can be a sweet old dragon, when she wants to be. So let us finish our dessert and get to where we need to be."

"And where is that, Owen?" Cristina said, as she dug into her strawberry cheesecake.

"We are going to follow the heart," he said, with a smile. Half an hour later, they were on their way to the Empire State Building. "So we are going up on top?" she said. "Don't we need tickets?"

"It's okay, I rented the deck for 15 minutes, so it will just be us and Logan," Owen said. As they stepped into the elevator, the attendant handed Cristina a bouquet of red roses. "Thank you," she said. She turned to Owen. "From you, I guess." He took her hand into his.

As they went out on the deck, Cristina ran to the edge and said, "I never get tired of seeing this city skyline." She looked around. "So strange not to see anyone up here."

"Well, I wanted us to be alone when I do this," he said. He dropped to one knee and took out the blue velvet box and opened it to reveal an emerald cut diamond ring. "Marry me, Cristina Yang. Make me the happiest man in the world. I promise to be a great husband to you and a wonderful father to Logan. Be the mother of my children." Even though her mouth was open in shock, she still had the ability to take the ring out of the box and slip it on her finger, admiring how it sparkled on her hand.

"Um, Cristina," Owen said. "I am dying down here. I am still on one knee." Cristina took his face into her hands and kissed him. "I am thinking that is a yes," he said, getting up from the ground. They kissed again, as Logan stared up at them. "We're getting married?" he asked, hopefully. "Yes, Logan," Owen said, swinging him up in his arms.

"Let's enjoy our last 10 minutes up here," Cristina said. She snuggled against Owen, putting her arm around his back, while he put his arm around her shoulder. In that moment, with just the three of them, looking out at the magnificent view of the city, everything was just perfect.

* * *

**A/N: Please leave your thoughts and comments. I do appreciate them.**


	21. Chapter 21 Life Ever After

**A/N: Final chapter.**

* * *

The wedding took place two weeks after the engagement. They figured they just wanted to be together, so there wasn't a need for such a big fussy wedding. They had the wedding in their backyard in Maine under an arch of flowers with the ocean as their background. The only people there, other than Owen, Cristina and Logan, were Phyllis, Joyce, the priest and the photographer. They realized that they didn't need anybody other than the people who were closest to them.

Logan insisted that he be the flower child as well as the ring bearer. He dropped the flowers on the sand for Cristina and he also carried the rings on a pillow. Max was also there, dressed with a white bow tie. In fact, white was the theme of the day. Everyone wore white and was barefoot. Phyllis was not happy that she had to leave her Jimmy Choo sandals on the patio but she knew that it would not have made any sense. Her stiletto heels would have just sunk in the sand.

Phyllis, who never married and never had children, found herself wiping away the tears. In many ways, Owen was the son she never had. He was her discovery when he was a young author, showing up with his unsolicited manuscript to present to her. She loved his audacity and hoped he could back up with that boldness with talent. She was blown away when she read his work. It was she who nurtured him into becoming the bestselling author that he was today. Now that he was getting married, it was like if her own flesh-and-blood son was getting married and she could not help the tears.

She was not the only one crying as Joyce too, could not help the tears. She was so happy for her boss. In the 10 years that she knew him, she had grown to love his generosity and kindness. Yes, he was a loner but that had been borne out of his circumstances of losing his parents, when he was 16 years old. The car accident had made him even more withdrawn and bitter. But it was the arrival of the young woman into their lives that brought the much needed light and laughter into his house. She was happy that he had found someone to share his life and his home. Logan, of course, that little ray of sunshine, was an added bonus. She hoped that someday, Mr. Hunt would have his own children with his bride.

As Owen looked into Cristina's eyes and repeated the words of the priest, he could not contain how much joy he felt. He could not stop smiling as he heard his bride say the same words. He could not wait for the priest to pronounce them "husband and wife" so he could kiss his bride. Both Joyce and Phyllis stopped their happy tears enough to clap for the newlywed couple. Logan jumped around and Max let out a howl or two.

After the wedding, they had dinner, which was catered by Mrs. Gerrity and her crew. Owen insisted that Joyce was a guest and not the housekeeper, today. It wasn't a fancy meal that they would have had if they had gotten married in Manhattan. It was good, hearty New England fare, with lots of delicious seafood. Phyllis ignored her diet and ate, heartily. The food was too good to bypass, she thought. "Oh, what the heck," she thought. It wasn't everyday that her surrogate son would get married. After all, she did have a major part in getting him hitched to the young woman. She was the one, who sent the girl to Maine to assist him. If it hadn't been for her, they would have never met and there wouldn't be a marriage, now. Oh dear, she was starting to get misty-eyed again, as she watched Owen lean over and kiss Cristina. They were so much in love.

* * *

Owen and Cristina went to Europe on their month-long honeymoon. They took Logan with them. They couldn't leave him behind because it just didn't feel right to go without him, especially since he had suffered so much when Cristina had gone on her book tour.

They all had a wonderful time, enjoying the sites, the food and culture. It was on this trip that Logan decided that it was time to call Owen, "daddy." He explained that he knew he had a daddy but since he never met him, he thought it would be okay to call Owen daddy since they were all married, now. He didn't think that his real daddy would mind. Owen said he would be a very happy man if Logan called him daddy. They shook hands on it and then, Logan gave him a hug.

It was also on this trip that Cristina conceived because two months later, she took a home pregnancy test. She had suspected she was pregnant when she did not get her period. When she saw the positive sign on the stick, she did not whoop or holler about it. She needed to make sure, so she did it a second and a third time. Yup, she was pregnant. She stared at the calendar and estimated that she was about six weeks pregnant.

She needed to tell Owen but she wasn't just going to tell him. She placed the stick in a box, wrapped it with gift paper and then, put a tiny bow on it. She was going to use Logan to deliver the news. He was conveniently playing on the floor of their bedroom.

"Logan, honey," she said. "Can you please carry this to your daddy?" Logan got up from the floor and took the box from her hand. "Ooh," he said. "A gift for daddy. Is it his birthday?"

"No, it isn't daddy's birthday," Cristina said. "Just something from mommy to daddy." Logan left the room and went down to the study, where Owen was working on his next book. He looked up from his computer when he saw the door open and the small figure of his son coming in.

"Hey, Logan," he said. "Come to spend time with your daddy?" Logan shook his head. "Mommy told me to give this to you." He handed his father the box. "What?" Owen said. "Mommy sent me a gift. She must really love me. I wonder what is in it." He ripped off the paper and opened the box. "What is this?" he said, picking up the stick. When he saw the positive sign on the stick's window, he started to laugh. He kicked back his head and laughed, heartily.

"Oh my God, Logan," he said. "This is the most fantastic news in the world." Logan was puzzled. What was so great about some plastic stick? Owen picked up Logan and swung him around the room. Daddy was very excited, Logan thought.

"Let's go see your mom," Owen said. He threw Logan on to his back and gave him a ride up the stairs to their bedroom. Cristina was calmly waiting in the bed, reading a book. Owen flung open the door, deposited Logan on the bed and claimed Cristina's lips with a long smooch.

"I am so elated," Owen said. Logan still did not understand what was going on. He wished someone would explain it to him. He was getting exasperated. "What's going on?" he said. He wanted to get in on the excitement, too, if only someone would tell him.

"Mommy is going to have a baby, Logan," Owen said. "A baby?" Logan said, his eyes growing large and wide.

"Yes, a baby," Cristina said. Logan started jumping up and down the bed. "A brother," he said.

"Uh, son," Owen said. "We don't know if it is a boy as yet. It could be a girl. Girls are nice. Look, Mommy is a girl and she is very nice." Logan stopped jumping and went and sat next to his mother. "Mommy, you can make sure that it is a boy." Cristina rolled her eyes. They had enough time to let Logan get used to the idea that it could be a girl.

"So how far gone are you?" Owen asked. "I checked the calendar and I think that I am about six weeks," she said.

"Thank you," he said, as he rested his head against her stomach. She ran her fingers through his hair.

* * *

Seven and a half months later, baby boy Zane Phillip Hunt was born with his mother's dark hair and his father's blue eyes. He was given the middle name of Phillip in honor of Phyllis, who was named the baby's godmother. Phyllis was overwhelmed by the gesture and promptly showered her new godson with many extravagant gifts. Logan was particularly happy that he got a baby brother. He stroked the baby's dark hair and told him that he was going to be the best big brother ever.

Baby Zane was not the only addition to the family. A year later, Logan delivered another gift-wrapped box to Owen. This time, it was a baby girl they named Bella Joycelyn Hunt, who was given that middle name in honor of her godmother Joyce, who was more than a housekeeper but also part of the family. Joyce loved that baby girl like if she were her own. Logan didn't mind that he got a baby sister. After all, dad was right that girls were nice because Mommy was a girl and she was very nice. Bella was fair-skinned with strawberry blonde hair and brown eyes. She was so pretty, Logan thought. He would have to protect her against anybody who wanted to be mean to her.

* * *

_**Two years later**_

"Wait for me, Logan," four-year-old Zane called after his nine-year-old brother. They were on the beach and Logan was running in front with their dog, Max.

"Logan," Owen shouted at his oldest son. "Wait for Zane." Logan stopped and turned around. "Okay, dad. Come on, Zane. You run too slow." He allowed Zane to catch up with him and together, they continued running along the beach.

Owen and Cristina walked at a much slower pace. Owen had their two-year-old Bella in his arms. "Phyllis called me," Cristina said. "She tells me that it has been like five years and I need to do another book." Since her first book, Cristina had been pregnant twice and taking care of the kids had taken a toll on her. In the same time period, Owen had done two more books. Plus his books were now being made into a movie franchise so he was involved in writing screenplays.

Cristina's career as a writer had basically been stalled by becoming a full-time mother of three children. "Well, write a book," he said. Cristina threw her hands up in the air. "I have ideas, Owen but I have to take care of the kids."

"Tell you what. I will take care of the kids, while you write your book. You have been supporting me by taking care of our family. You have allowed me to write two books and also, the screenplays. Let it be my turn," he said. "I will take over the brunt of the child care and free you up so you can write."

"Thank you, Owen," she said and gave him a hug. Bella reached across and touched her mother's cheek. "I see Bella thinks it is a great idea," Owen said. "Daddy is going to take good care of her."

"Oh, the sale of Mom's house is done," she said. "The realtor told me, this morning. It was hard to give it up because I spent my childhood there but I know it was just sentimentality that had me clinging to the place. I am sure the family that will live there is going to enjoy it as much as I did. A chapter of my life has ended."

"Yes, but we have so many new chapters to write with our own family," Owen said. Cristina smiled up at the man that she loved. "Yes, lots and lots of lovely new chapters," she said. They continued, walking along the beach with their arms around each other.

**_THE END_**

* * *

**A/N Thank you for taking this journey with me. I hope that you have enjoyed this story. Please leave your final thoughts. **


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